


Of Thieves, Assassins, and Honorable Men

by anonymouschaos



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Bets & Wagers, Companions Questline (Elder Scrolls), Domestic Fluff, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn Listener, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Drunk Werewolves, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fighting Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Giants, Mead, Murder, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sparring, Teasing, Thieves Guild, Werewolves, punching sexists, toothrottingstuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:00:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 72,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymouschaos/pseuds/anonymouschaos
Summary: Madaloa is a shady character tasked with saving of the world. Vilkas is an honorable warrior with a bad temper. An unlikely pairing to be sure, but fate is a curious thing.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas, Vilkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, first chapter, here we go! This one is a short little thing, mostly humor, with a hint of injury and a dash of swearing. Dear readers, you have been warned…

I’m not in my quarters. It's the first thing my wine addled brain can comprehend upon waking, other than the burning pain that threatens to split my skull. Before I even open my eyes I notice. The smell is wrong, familiar but not my own. I crack an eye open with a groan. The dull glare of morning light feels so blinding that I can barely see. When I lift a hand to shade my eyes, I gasp in pain. My chest. Searing fire radiates from my ribcage. I push the blankets down and notice that my armor is missing. In its place I wear only my under trousers and a tight bandage spanning my torso. Someone has treated me.

  
I try to sit up, but the pain is too great. At this moment, I hear footsteps approaching. I frantically look around for something to wear. Gaze landing upon a shirt crumpled beside the bed. Leaning over to grab it is torture, but i manage to pull it over my head just as the door swings open.

  
“Gods what did I do last night?” I groan through gritted teeth. The owner of the shirt enters and I feel rather foolish for not recognizing the scent of my own shield-brother, Vilkas.

  
“I’ve brought you a healing potion,” he says awkwardly, extending a glass bottle, “and as for what you did, I’m as clueless as you.”

  
“But how did I end up in your bed, in such a state of undress?” He turns five shades of crimson.

  
“You stumbled in here hollering about Farkas owing you money,” he explains quickly as I pop the cork off the potion and down half. The pain starts to fade, and the haze of liquor lift, slowly but surely.

  
“Seems you won a bet,” he pulls a chair up beside the bed, “but you were so deep in your cups that you didn’t realize you had the wrong room.”

  
“And what exactly did I do to win this bet?”

  
“Couldn’t tell ya, Farkas and Ria are still out cold. Fortunate that you were the only one hurt.”

  
“Fortunate hmm?” I smirk.

  
“No not like that, I only mean that-”

  
“I’m only teasing, Vilkas, I understand. I know that I’m not your favorite person.”

  
He shakes his head and offers a timid smile at my jokes.

  
“If you’re well enough to tease then you're well enough to get out of my bed! I was up all night because of your antics, whelp.”

  
I move to get up, but he catches my arm and pushes me back into the blankets.

  
“I was only teasing,” he says.

  
“Since when does Mr. Scowls tease?” He rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. I’d wager that he’s trying not to smile, but then again I’ve never been good at reading faces.

  
“Why have you stolen my shirt?” he says suddenly.

  
“ _Borrowed_! I was indecent, which begs the question of how I became so, and in your room no less.”

  
“Aela bandaged you after you passed out on my floor.” He explains quickly, turning red again.

  
“A likely story. I’ll have to compare it with my own when my memories return.”

  
“Shield-sister I would never-”

  
“I’m pulling your chain Vilkas! Gods, and they call you the smart one.” I start to laugh but cease with a wince.

  
“Do you need more potions?”

  
“No I am well enough, I’ll cast a spell in a moment to finish what the potion started.”

  
Silence falls thick and awkward as a wet blanket as I try to remember what happened. I pull my magica into a warm blue light that spreads through my veins, slowly draining the pain from my ribs and skull.

  
“The fog is starting to lift.” I mutter.

  
“How poetic.”

  
“Shut up asshole.” Vilkas laughs.

  
“I remember drinking to a successful contract with Farkas and Ria. I dare say we spend all our profits from the job on mead… and that blasted argonian wine. I should’ve known! Always the wine that gets me.”

  
I lower my hand as the spell finishes. Pain dulled to a low ache. The bones are still tender, but no longer cracked.

  
“Farkas was asking about the thieves guild, and he dared me to do something but I can’t quiet-”

  
“Thieves guild?”

  
“Oh yes, didn’t you know? I’m in many guilds and factions, but that’s besides the point-”

  
“You’re a thief? But that’s so…”

  
“Dishonorable? Says the mercenary.” he bristles.

  
“I am not a mercenary!”

  
“Look, I’d be pleased to have a moral debate with you another time, but right now I’m trying to figure out why I’m half naked in a man’s bed with a cracked rib!” There, that quiets him.

  
“He dared me to do something that involved sneaking, he doubted that I was as good as I said, foolish man,” I tap my lip, impatient at the slowness of my memories. Vilkas scoots closer, obviously curious.

  
“By the divine, I remember!” I start. This time, when I laugh it hardly hurts.

  
“What?”

  
“I got a piggyback ride from a giant!” his face shows obvious disbelief.

  
“Snuck up behind him, climbed a big rock, jumped and tally hoe!” I cackle, sliding out of bed. Vilkas follows me to the door as I limp across the hall.

  
“Farkas! You drunk dog! You owe me 500 septims, and Ria saw the whole thing so there’s no backing out this time!”

  
“This time?!” Vilkas exclaims.


	2. A Moral Debate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I sense a friendship is blooming... or maybe it's just the mead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No giants this time, just some good old angst. Enjoy!

“So,” Vilkas knocks back a near empty bottle of honningbrew mead, “i believe you owe me a moral debate”

“Stop moving while I bandage you!”

The fight was over. Wiping out the silver hand had been easier than I’d thought, but in the skirmish Vilkas had caught an arrow to the shoulder. He had wanted to keep moving and reach Whiterun by dawn, but I insisted on checking his wound first. With both stashes of health potions diminished from the fight, along with my magika, mead stood in for a proper anesthetic. I’d set camp, sterilized my tools,stitched the wound, and was now engaged in bandaging it with boiled linen. Unfortunately, it had taken quite a large amount of liquor to dull the pain to a manageable level. While he was not drunk, Vilkas was certainly tipsy, enough to free him from his usual silent brooding.

“Afterall you stole my shirt.”

“I gave it back!” I mutter, tying off the wrap, “and besides, you're not the the right headspace for an argument”

“What makes you think it will end in an argument?”

“Grief and liquor rarely mix” I say, moving to the fire to wash my hands and clean my healing supplies. 

“Ahh come on, you owe me!” Vilkas pulls on his shirt with a grunt.

“Alright,” I concede with a shake of my head, “what do you want to debate?” 

“Revenge.”

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“You already agreed! Come on shield sister, where is your honor?”

“Alright, revenge… what about it?”

“Is it a noble cause?” He shakes his head, “no thats a dumb question, is it a forgivable cause?”

“Vilkas, do you regret what we just did?”

“No, I can't. Kodlak was…” he turns away from the fire. 

“It's alright, i understand…” I say, thinking carefully over my words, “Perhaps it's not a noble cause, no deed born of anger can be, but it isn’t necessarily evil, because that anger is also born of love.”

He nods gravely, eyes heavy with unshed tears

“You shouldn't beat yourself up over it, we all have our shortcomings. And as far as my travels have taken, you are one of the most honorable men I've met.” I pack my supplies into an apothecary satchel, carefully wrapping needles in cloth and blades in leather. Vilkas is silent for a long time.

“Will you tell me of your adventures?” His voice has gone to water, he seeks distraction. 

“The thieves guild you mean? Why i joined.” 

“Yes, it puzzles me.” His words give me pause. I’d known that most of the Companions thought better of me than I deserved, but Vilkas had always seemed to see through my jokes and banter. 

“Well, it was an accident at first, but they payed well, and by the gods I was good at the work.” He chuckles. 

“The real reason? I know you aren't one to compromise your ideals for coin.”

“What makes you say that? You don't know my other dealings, shield brother, the thieves guild is mild in comparison.”

“You have a good heart Madaloa, Kodlak knew that.” 

“I haven't been honest Vilkas, if I had I would never have been allowed to join the Companions.” 

“We see more than you think. You’ve never lied to us, at least to my knowledge. You don't hide your past, I was one of the few among us who didn't know of your dealings with the thieves.”

“As i've said, that guild is mild.” I finish packing my bag and settle in across the fire from him, mentaly debating how much I should reveal, “but if you wish for a debate, or an excuse, i suppose i can give you one”I lean back against a rock. Where to begin?

“I’ll tell you of the thieve guild, but nothing more, is that fair?” He nods gravely. 

“I suppose you’ve heard the legend of the dragonborn. You know that I am destined to defeat a great evil. I can not fail, I _must_ not fail. 

I had to find a man, one who knew about my destiny. And to do so I had to help a man with a scheme. I'm not proud of it, but it was a fun job, it takes cunning to be a trickster. I learned what I needed to know, and my journey continues even now. But I decided to join the guild.” I poke the fire with a stick, Vilkas’ eyes are trained on me with interest. 

“I've justified it to myself, but i won't lie, the work I do for them is… wrong. It is corrupt and greedy. It’s not the worst i've done, indeed i've done far fouler. But I can live with myself. I am not an honorable person.”

“How _do_ you live with yourself?” Despite the harshness of the words, there is no malice in his tone, only curiosity. It makes me pause.

“I'm not sure. I guess, I just try to think about my goal. I need to be ruthless to save the world. I'll need to be cunning, and quick, and strong. Eyes on the prey, not the horizon. Your brother said that to me, a long time ago.” 

“Kodlak told us that all the time growing up.” Vilkas laughs lightly, “Farkas used to get all these hairbrained ideas.”

“Used to?” We share a fond smile. 

“We’d best be on our way. We have a heavy task ahead, they are waiting for us” I say rising to my feet, “If you feel well enough, that is. And sober enough.”

“Yes,” he rises with a deep groan, “we’d best move along.”

I kick dirt over the fire and hear Vilkas chuckle softly.

“What?”

“I was just thinking that it would be wise if we broke this habit of only speaking when one of us is in their cups” 

I give a small smile, and we are on our way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew that Madaloa was such an angsty dragon lady hmm? I certainly didn't.


	3. The Trouble with Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Vilkas has trouble controlling his beast blood. Good thing Madaloa is a BAMF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: slightly suggestive content. Oh, and Vilkas is an ass.

Time moves quickly, guiding me to my destiny. Living with the Companions is a comfort I indulge in more frequently than my other duties demand. It is different there, almost like having a family again. The mages college, thieves guild, dark brotherhood, sure I am close to their members, but I feel guarded. I couldn’t trust my fellow students in their competitive ways, nor forget the betrayal of past members of the guild or brotherhood. But the mead hall felt like home. I'd grown close to my shield brethren.

Farkas got me into all sorts of amusing trouble, from slipping letters from “secret admirers'' into the pockets of particularly annoying guards to yelling a bear off a mountainside (we’d both suffered several bites and bruises from that little stunt). I went hunting with Aela several times a month, when I wasn't away on quests. In the quiet hours of the early morning, we amused each other with only mildly exaggerated tales of hunts long past. 

Ria delighted in gossip and stories from other towns, and often traveled with me on quests. Even Njada had warmed to me, amused by my constant jokes and schemes. 

And then there was Vilkas. We kept our promise to talk more when sober. We discovered a mutual love of reading, and often traveled together on quests and to the arcanium. He was still so reserved, unless under the influence of mead, it seemed. He’d taught me the history of the guild, delighted by my appetite for knowledge. I learned of his love of legends, of words from civilizations long turned to dust. And he quietly learned of my love of brawls and sparring. There was a comfortable sort of silence between use as we traveled. 

But tonight was different. We'd stopped at an inn. Though I prefer to sleep outside, we were running low on food, and it was colder than usual. As I arranged for rooms, Vilkas found a table and ordered dinner. Perhaps the traveling was getting to him, he seemed different tonight. Those quick eyes dart around in a strange manner, the same way Aela’s search the underbrush for rabbits. 

“They’ve only one room, I will take the floor.”

“Nonsense! What kind of man would i be if i let you sleep on the floor?”His voice isn’t his own, it is artificially loud. My nose catches the scent of a wolf. So that was the problem, he was having trouble with the beast. He picks up a bottle of mead and take a long drink. 

“Perhaps it would be better if we avoided the drink tonight?” I start tentatively, unsure how to broach the subject without offending, “and maybe make camp outside of town? There is a strangeness in the air in here.” 

“If that is what you desire, Harbinger.” I relax, feeling the crisis averted. 

“Yes, I feel rather unwell here, let us go after dinner.” 

We wait in silence, the feel of unease just barely making the hair on my neck stand. I jump when the barmaid brings our food. 

“Will you be needing anything else?” The young woman asked. 

“Aye, perhaps you would be needing something?” Vilkas said, voice taking on the edge of an animal, “what do you say? Need anything from a strong man?”

The poor girl turned red as a snowberry. 

“Aye sir, perhaps. If you see any strong men around send them my way.” 

I chuckled awkwardly at the girl’s attempt at a joke as she scurrys off, the scent of fear tainting the air.

“What a harpie.”

“Vilkas, what in the name of Talos was that?!” 

“Just trying to have some fun, sister.” His eyes fix on me. I feel uncomfortably warm and angry. My own wolf rises, demanding a fight. I push down the fire and try to speak with reason. 

“You ought not have treated the poor girl in such a way, it is not honorable to harass servers.”

“And what would you know of honor, Harbinger?” His blue eyes are flashing silver. He has stricken a cord. It takes a lot of willpower not to growl but I manage. 

“Enough. If you wish to settle your,” I swallow hard, feeling heat rise to my face, “ _ urges _ , then choose a more willing participant, one who can refuse your advances without fear of losing her job.”

“Perhaps you’re right, or perhaps you desire her,” his eyes are full silver now, the scent of wolf grows strong, “do you need a wingman sister?”

“Vilkas, go wait outside while i settle the bill.” I say in a firm voice, the tone reserved for moments when I mean to be obeyed. 

He seems taller when he stands. I rush to the counter and toss a bag of coin to the barmaid. 

“I'm sorry for his behavior, my companion is feeling unwell. Please keep the change.” And I hurry out the door after him. I need to get him out of town. 

For someone accustomed to hiding, it takes me a disturbingly long time to locate my companion. Vilkas leans against a tree, shaded from the light of the moons, his eyes seem to glow. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Why?” He pushes off from his rest and stalks over. Not wanting to trigger a change, I step back and find myself pinned between him and the wall of the inn.

“Perhaps it wasn't the barmaid you desired at all, hmm harbinger?” His voice is a low growl. He cages me against the wall with his arms, faces just a little too close for comfort, “perhaps you'd like to take  _ me _ up on that offer.” 

“Vilkas, you are not in your right mind,” I say, straightening my spine, “Back. Off.”

“Or what?” His smell surrounds my, making my head spin in a way I’d rather not think of. 

“Fus!” I push him away with my thu’um gently, but the force is enough to crack through the strange facade his beast had conjured. 

“Madaloa?” His voice has returned to normal, I let out a soft sigh of relief. 

“Where are we? When did it get so dark?” 

“We are in Riverwood, it is two in the morning. What is the last thing you remember?”

“Yesterday morning, after we killed that group of bandits. By the nine, did I hurt you?” His voice is nearing frantic, he takes a step in my direction but stops himself. I'd best calm him down before he loses it again. The moons seem to wink at me as clouds drift below them. 

“No, Vilkas, you didn't hurt anyone. You lost control but I handled it. No harm was done. We’d best get to the hunting grounds. We will travel through the night. It isn't far. We only stopped because it was so early in the morning.”

“What did i do?”

“Nothing major. You made an ass of yourself but that is nothing new,” I smile reassuringly, “if you wish to know everything, i will tell you later, right now we’d best get you out of here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost total control over this story. The characters have gone rogue. I suspected as much from Madaloa, but Vilkas too? Sorry if it strays from the lore, it's out of my hands now, dear readers.


	4. Brawls and beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa love to fight and Vilkas is a good friend who doesn't mind being a punching bag. Drunken sparring it is then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting the Companions drunk always leads to an interesting encounter... lets see what happens this time!

Alea did not want the cure. I couldn't blame her, after living with my wolf for these past three years, I was almost sorry to kill her. But I couldn't stand the gnawing hunger, the bloodlust. It made me feel unclean. I had enough to be ashamed of, so i would conquer this. Farkas was elated. He said he couldn't wait for a good night's rest. Vilkas was quiet, but I'd learned to read his face over the years and knew he was relieved. Aela agreed to help us rid ourselves of the blood regardless of her stance. 

Three wolves down was cause enough for celebration. We made camp halfway home and broke out the wine. Before long, Vilkas challenged me to a sparring match. 

“Come on Madaloa, you know you want to kick his ass again!” Aela hollars. 

“Im not sure it’s wise to fuel Farkas’s gambling addiction,” i laugh back. 

“No bets! I promise!”

“Alright, i could use some practice at hand to hand.” Farkas and Aela cheer as I rise and begin to shed my weapons. 

“Alright, i want a good clean fight,” Aela says, more than a little tipsy, “no magic,” she gives me an exaggeratedly pointed look, “no wise comments” she turns that look on Vilkas. 

“I’m not the one you need to scold for wise cracks!” Vilkas laughs. I don't know that i've ever seen him so happy. I smile. 

“Hey if i'm sacrificing magic i'm not giving up wisecracks too!” 

And with that, the game begins. I can't help but grin as I circle my opponent, searching for weak spots. He’s large, and far stronger than I, but much slower. This will be a well matched fight. 

“What's with the smile whelp? Like what you see?”

“Certainly,” i say grinning wider, “who doesn't like an easy opponent”

He aims a punch at my ribs that i dodge easily, landing a jab to his stomach. 

“Hey i said no wise cracks!” 

“Aw it’s alright Aela! The poor guy has to have something right? And i won't even cheat,” i say, aiming a blast of frost at his feet that makes him slip, “that much!” 

“No fair!” Vilkas says with no heat. 

“Ahh, you're right shield brother, that was not honorable, allow me to help you up old man” I hold out hand to help him to his feet, but he is laughing too hard to see it. So I grab his arm and half drag him upright. 

“Im no older than you!” He says falling back into a fighting stance.

“You don't look it” I sneak in close and try to punch him but he grabs my wrist and spins me, pinning me against his chest.

“Do you yield?”

“Never,” I push back, knocking us both to the ground. Twisting my arm free. He is quick to flip us over, knocking the wind from my lungs and pinning my shoulders to the ground. He straddles me.

“Wrong choice”

He’s smirking now too, but not for long. I give him a wink and push him off. He is heavier than I anticipated, but I am still able to free myself and stumble to my feet. Somewhere I can hear Farkas and Aela’s cheers, but at this moment it’s just me and him. Gods i love a good brawl. 

“You’ve been holding out,” we circle each other, stupid grins stuck in place, “you werent nearly as good a fighter last time we sparred.” 

“Perhaps it's the wine”

I feign a punch to his ribs and sweep his feet out from under him. He grabs my leg and yanks me down, i curse softly for my foolishness. If i wasn't so cocky i would have stepped back. We toustle back and forth on the ground until he has me pinned again.

“No weaseling out this time whelp.”

“You'd be surprised, old man”

I twist my leg around his hip and flip us. That was a stupid move, i couldve broken my back, but I’m too drunk to care. 

“What have you been eating? You weigh as much as a hoarker,” i taunt, pressing his hands to the ground with all my weight. I can't hold him for long, my best bet is to tire him. I struggle to get his hands pinned and end up straddling him in the process. He goes strangely still. I look back to his face. His smile has fallen and he is breathing heavy. There's something unreadable there in his eyes that catches me off guard. 

“Yield?” I whisper. 

His face flushes and he nods curtly. I release his hands and stagger to my feet, holding out a hand as I rise. He takes it quietly. 

“That was epic! You're fighting me next!”Aela flings an arm around my shoulder with a laugh. I wince. She's surprisingly peppy when drunk. 

“Maybe in a week or two. By the nine, i dont know if ill be able to walk tomorrow,” i laugh, limping over to my seat by the fire and grabbing a bottle of wine. I see Vilkas flush crimson. But before i can contemplate his strange turn in mood, Farkas is regaling us with a drinking song he claims he learned from a wood elf named Feae. The night wears a golden glow. It is strange to be so at ease. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with my characterization of Aela in this piece. It's not particularly accurate, but Madaola insisted that this is how the story went, and who am I to contradict a fictional character of my own making?


	5. A Random Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's magic in the air tonight and anything can happen (yes that was a reference, fight me)

Time circles around me. Taunting me with a destiny that is just outside my reach. I train. I fight. I kill. On and on. This month I kill for the brotherhood, the next I steal for the thieves. Draugers and dragons fall at my feet. I learn the language of my blood, the spells of the mages. 

When I was young I dreamed of adventure. How could i have known that it would consume me. 

The day finds me outside of winterhold. I like to practice my spells away from the prying eyes of student and teacher alike. Conjure, strike, dispel. I've acquired a bound war axe spell, and want to perfect it in case I get kidnapped… again.

It’s simple, but I'm no two handed warrior, always favoring a one handed sword and magic to any greatsword, so I need training to get a feel for the new weapon. 

The trick to being a good mage is to not dress like one. Sure the enchanted robes help, but playing off people's assumptions has gotten me out of more difficult situations than I can count. 

Switching to fireball, I square off with a snowberry bush, hoping to improve my aim and maybe invent roasted snowberry shaved ice, if I time it right with the coming storm. 

I charge and let fly, catching the bush in a blaze of fire. It smells horrible. Too bad, I thought I was onto something with that snowberry ice. 

My spell must have startled a wanderer, for i hear a sharp squeal. I tilt my head to the side and put down my hands. I recognize the voice. 

“Ria?” 

“Madaloa is that you?”she emerges from behind the bush, followed by a stern looking Vilkas. I rush forward to hug her.

“I'm terribly sorry, i had no idea anyone was back there. Are either of you hurt? Let me heal you.”

“No, I am well, thankyou.” Ria says quickly, evidently frightened by my powers.I step back to stare at them. 

“Nah I don't believe you,” I say, blasting them with healing hands.

“Remarkable!” Ria exclaims, “my leg doesn't hurt at all! That bandit got me good too.”

“Speaking of, what are you guys doing out here? Come to talk to the smelly old arch-mage?”

“Who is he?” Vilkas speaks up. I’m a little annoyed at his lack of greeting. 

“Oh, he can still talk, shame. I should try that spell again and see if i can muffle him for longer” I hold up my hands, playfully bouncing into a fighting stance and Ria laughs. 

“And as for the smelly old arch mage, you are speaking to  _ her _ ”

“You're the arch mage? When did that happen?” Ria asks.

“Last month, that's why ive been away so long. I still don't know why they elected me. Apparently when you save someone's life they tend to remember it, but that’s a story for another time. I'm certainly not the most skilled mage, but if you're looking for someone in particular i can certainly point you in the right direction” 

“Oh that's alright, we are just looking for the inn before this storm hits, had a contract out here to catch a convict.” Ria says cheerfully. 

“Oh, speaking of which,” i turn to Vilkas, “is there any work that needs to be done? Divines know when I'll be back in Whiterun again. I sent letters to the circle explaining my absence, did you receive them?” 

“Yes, Harbinger. Thank you. We’ve got it covered while you tend to your other obligations.”

“So formal, did someone steal your sense of humor?” His frown deepens.

“Why are you so peppy? Are you drunk?” Vilkas asks, face schooled in a stubbornly solemn expression.

“Not at all, it’s just nice to see some friendly faces… or a friendly face,” i laugh and nudge Ria with my elbow “you have no idea how stiff those mages can be” 

“We’d better find shelter,” he looks at the sky, avoiding my prying gaze.

“Ah yes,where's the inn?”

“Nonsense, you can stay in my quarters, save some gold. I've only got one bed, but I'm sure I can conjure up a few bedrolls. Let’s say, whoever killed the most bandits gets the mattress.”

“I would hate to put you out Harbinger.” Vilkas’ eyes return to mine. 

“Nonsense. Now if you'd prefer the inn, then by all means, but i've gotten a hold of the last book in that series we were reading. I've only got a few chapters left, I should be done by morning. You can borrow it for the trip home.”

“I suppose i can't refuse your kindness,” he shrugs, much to Rias delight. 

I lead the way to my quarters. Vilkas trails behind us, eyes on the sky. 

“Has he been so solemn for long, or is it because i almost burnt his eyebrows off?” I whisper to Ria.

“He's been moody all month. Maybe he misses his sparring partner hmm?” 

“I'm sure that he can find someone else to kick his ass in my absence. I bet Aela would pay good money for the privilege.”

“Now that's a fight i'd pay to see!” 

“Maybe I can convince him next time I'm in Whiterun.” 

“Why dont you travel home with us? Do you have much left to do here?” I’ve been away a few months, perhaps I ought to make a trip home. 

“I have a few deeds left to do,” I pause, reworking my schedule in my head, “but I promise I’ll make it home for the harvest festival. I understand that Farkas is having a bit of a party. I’ll bring some of that spiced wine from Solitude, fair deal?”

“Fair enough.”


	6. Spiced Wine and Summertime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas and Madaloa are chaotic little bastards. Madaloa is too drunk for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wiggles eyebrows* My dear friends, I do believe it's time for [drum roll please] some drunken confessions!

The journey from Solitude to Whiterun would have been a long one, weighted down with wine would make it longer still, so i hired a wagon. By the time I reached the gates, it was well past midnight, a week before I was due to arrive. Nothing wrong with being fashionably early, so long as I hide the wine until the party. I supposed I could hide it under the skyforge. Aela was the only one who could still access it and she wouldn’t indulge without asking. I hate to wake her up to open the door for me, but without the beast's blood it’s impossible to enter. 

So I stashed the case under some flowers in an inconspicuous spot near the forge and crept down the sleeping halls of Jorrvaskr. 

Perhaps I am too noisy, but I swing by some of the other rooms first to make sure everyone looks well. No one looks injured in the barracks, but I see some new faces. Must be the new recruits Aela wrote about in her last letter. Farkas snores loud enough to wake the dead, but I knew that already. 

I turn to Vilkas’ room and notice a light. Sneaking to the doorway, I catch a glimpse of him pouring over a book in bed. His armor thrown in a haphazard pile near the door, I’m embarrassed to find that he wears only his under drawers. 

Strange thing to be embarrassed of, I muse, taking a quiet step back. After all, I've seen my fair share of naked men as a healer. He is not exposed by any means, and yet my heart races. I take another step back, and in my distraction drive my foot directly into the edge of a table.

I curse… loudly. 

When I look up, his eyes are scanning the dark doorway.

“Who’s that?” He whispers.

“It’s just me, sorry to disturb you.” I say, emerging from the shadows. 

“Harbinger, you're early. Everyone will be pleased.”

He grabs a linen shirt from his dresser and pulls it on quickly. I avert my eyes until he is covered.

“Still so formal,” I smile and shake my head, “you've got to quit that Vilkas. It makes me feel old.”

“If the shoe fits,” he flashes me a small smile and sticks a bookmark in the volume, closing it slowly.

“Oh shut up, you dog.” He chuckles quietly. 

“So,” i say, scuffing the toe of my shoe against the floor, “why are you up so late?” 

“New book.”

“Ahh, i know the feeling.”

“And you? What brings you over here?” 

“I was looking for Aela, I need a favor. I have a little surprise for the party. Though I told Ria, so it is hardly going to surprise anyone.” I chuckle softly. 

“Spiced wine, i assume.”

“Indeed.”

“I see we have some new faces, find someone new to beat you up yet?” He laughs, a little too loud for the time of night. 

“No. No one spars quiet like you.” 

“I'm flattered, and here I thought you'd replaced me already.” I smile and turn to take my leave.

“Nonsense Madaloa, and you know it.” He’s smiling now too. And I feel that strange embarrassment tickle my heart again. 

“Good night old man, i'll kick your ass in the morning.” 

  
  


The week passed quickly enough. We have three new recruits, so I made sure to take some time to get to know them. Aela isn't sure if they'll make it, but they seem like decent folk. I have high hopes for the youngest one, Lucia. She is but a child, but there is a kindness in her that I think will make for an honorable warrior. 

Ria convinces me to wear a dress to the party, after snooping in my drawer and finding the red gown I'd been saving for crashing formal events. I agree on the grounds that she wears the yellow one she bought in solitude on a quest we took many months ago. 

I kept my promise to spar with Vilkas. Indeed the potential recruits are so amused by our scuffles that they practically beg us to give them a show every morning. 

Sober, neither of us battle as hard as that night we first sparred after ridding ourselves of the beast blood, but I hear it is still quite a show. We train with fists and swords. Once I even put on a bit of a magic show, though I was careful to aim soley for his feet and only use minor, though rather flashy, spells. 

Finally the day of the festival arrives. The new recruits were not invited, on the grounds that a hall full of drunk warriors is no place for whelps. I argued against it, but was overruled by Aela because “we don't need more pawns in Farkas’ prank war!” 

Aela is probably right, the bets will start flowing in as soon as the wine hits. This time I made sure to stock up on health potions. 

  
  


Food and dancing, stories and songs, i hadn't had such fun since i left Whiterun. The sun fell to the darkness and we fell to the liquor. 

“Mada-“ Farkas hiccuped, “Madaloa, i have a bet for youuuuu” he says in a sing songy voice. I had tried to pace myself on the wine, and were glad for it, for though I was tipsy, I was nowhere near as drunk as most of my companions. 

“Hit me” I say, popping the lid off a bottle of wine and filling my glass. 

“I bet, you can't make Vilkas blush.” I laugh.

“Ha that's all? I do that everyday for free! I bet I could make Vilkas red as a snowberry for the whole night!” Maybe I wasn't as sober as I’d thought. It was a stupid joke. Embarrassing too, which is probably why Farkas thought of it.

“Deal!”

“Wait what are we betting?” We both laugh.

“A bottle of that argonian wine,” he suggests.

“No way the last time I drank that I rode a giant!”

“A bottle of alto wine?”

“That's hardly a bet! How about,” I search my brain, a difficult task for one so far from sober, “armor repairs!”

“Yes! That's perfect!” 

“When's it starting?” I ask, topping off his glass.

“Right now dummy!” He spills some wine on the table and curses, “Oopsie” 

I sit back and look for my target, finding him in the middle of a conversation with Aela...perfect. 

“You watching?” I nudge Farkas with my boot and make a bee line for Vilkas. Standing beside Aela, I send a discrete thumbs up to Farkas, which he returns with a clumsy wink. 

“Aela! Are you having fun?”

“Certainly, the spiced wine helps. Though it would be more fun if you and Vilkas were to spar.” I giggle.

“In this dress? No ma’am! And besides, last time I sparred with him while drunk I could hardly walk for a week.”

Vilkas chokes on his glass of wine, and I smirk, poor fool the fun has just begun. 

“It was like riding a giant!”

Aela snorts into her wine

“Last time you broke a rib, this time I'd better not miss it!” 

“I’m not nearly drunk enough yet!” I sneak a glance at Vilkas, still red as the evening sky. Excellent. 

“If you plan on catching a giant, let me know first yeah?” 

And so the night passes. I'm doing well on my bet, sneaking suggestive comments into every conversation. Whispering flirty remarks in his ear. The poor man. 

It's early in the morning and many of my friends have fallen asleep. Farkas is out like a light, so I assume my bet is won and skip down to the sleeping quarters. A few warriors are still awake, mumbling drunkenly. Vilkas is nowhere to be found. 

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I spot him down an abandoned hall that leads to the circle's quarters. Why not have a little more fun before the night is through?

I sneak through the shadows with a barely contained giggle and creep up behind where he leans against a wall.

Pressing myself to his back, I cover his eyes and whisper in his ear.

“Guess who”

“I'm too drunk for this,” he murmurs. 

“Nooooo Nonono you have to guess” i giggle 

He turns in my arms.

“No fair!”

“Madaloa, please stop this.”

I lean in closer. 

“Haven’t the foggiest what you mean,” and flutter my eyelashes 

“Madaloa”

“Yes, handsome?” There's that blush, it makes me grin.

At least until he leans in and kisses that grin off my face. I let out a little gasp, arms instinctively reaching around him for balance. All the while his mouth works against mine with more tenderness than i thought possible for a warrior. My head is spinning, heart racing. I guess i kiss him back, I can't remember.

Finally he pulls away, face flushed, eyes dilated. 

“Vilkas?”

And suddenly the moment ends. His eyes fill with horror. And he steps back.

“I'm sorry,I didn't mean to take advantage, I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me, Harbinger.”

He practically runs away. I touch my lips. What just happened?

I look around, eyes taking in the hall in a dazed sort of way. Then I notice Tilma, watching me from the corner of the adjoining room.

“Did you see that?” I ask, giving my head a little shake.

“Aye.”

“What was that?”

“I'll tell you when you're sober dear. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

I'm too drunk for this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it lazy that I keep using alcohol as a plot device... yes, but Madaloa made me do it so fight me!


	7. The Beginning of an Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa is a soft, angsty b*tch... (I censored it because she would kill me otherwise... warriors are so temperamental)

  
  


Sobriety brings a headache. I wake late in the day, and reach blindly for the health potion I stashed by my bed. Chugging it, I lean my head back against the wall and grimace. 

This time, I remember everything... At least there's no broken rib.

I knock back the rest of the bottle and stagger to my feet. I need to find Vilkas, I have to apologize. 

I curse myself for not seeing it sooner, for not having more sense, for embarrassing him. I ruined his night, I'm sure of it. 

That's the only thing I'm sure of.

I never thought of love. Never hoped for it. Since i discovered i was dragonborn, i knew my soul wasn't mine to give. It belongs to skyrim. If I die saving these people, this land, I'll do it gladly. Heroes and villains don't get happy endings. I've embodied both and so i've no right to claim a prize meant for poets and bards and lovely common folk. And yet…

I smooth my sleep in dress as best I can and grab a bag of health potions. I'd best pass them out on my way. 

I creep from my door and stumble through the halls of snoring warriors. A coward among heroes. The door to his room is ajar, so I creep in silent as a field mouse to find him sleeping soundly. I settle into a chair and watch his breath rise and fall. Gods, how beautiful he is. The very thought catches me off guard. How long had I felt this way? I try to recall, but it seems that it has always been. 

I feel a pang of regret, the sudden urge to flee. But the dragonborn does not run from a fight. He sighs in his sleep

“Madaloa” and my name as never sounded so beautiful. I take his hand in my own.

“Yes, Vilkas?” He smiles a sleepy half grin, burrowing back into the blankets, before opening his eyes with a start.

“Madaloa?”

“Still here.”

“By the nine what did I do?”

I laugh at the familiarity of our situation and hand him a bottle.

“I brought you a healing potion.” 

“Don't tell me i got a piggyback from a giant.” His smile breaks my heart. He’s going to hate me. 

“No,but I made an ass of myself, again.”

“Becoming a habit eh?”

He sits up and leans against the wall, sipping to potion and stealing glances at me. 

“But seriously, I didn't, umm-“ And i can't help myself.

“Oh yes, you ravaged me up against the wall, it's a miracle I can walk.” He chokes on the potion and starts coughing violently. I pound his back helpfully and laugh.

“No Vilkas, you were a perfect gentleman.” 

“Don't scare me like that.”

“But i wasn't a lady.”

“You'll be the death of me, woman.” He smirks and I smile.

“Vilkas, i'm sorry i ruined your night.”

“Aye but you made my morning.” 

“I haven't told you everything.” Here comes the hard part. I watch his face slip behind a stealy mask. My heart quickens knowing what he thinks. At least this truth I can tell. I raise his hand, still captured in my own, and kiss it. And watch that facade crumble like a sandcastle under a wave. 

“You're a good man, you deserve better than me.” He scoffs, but I hold his hand tighter. 

“Don't say it, i know what you're thinking.”

“I won't say anything,” he murmurs, leaning in close, “i'll show you”

And his lips met mine again, slow and warm. I feel myself melt, but pull away before I can collapse. 

“Will you come on an adventure with me?”

“Of course love,” I wince at his pet name.

“Please dont, Vilkas you don't know who i am, what i've done, you're going to hate me when you find out.” 

“Don't cry love, I could never hate you.” He pulls me out of the chair and into his arms.I just shake my head.

“I want to show you who i am.” 

“I know who you are.”

“Dont,” i shake my head and take a ragged breath, “Just wait. Please.”

“I will.” We stay like that for a long time. Listening to each other's heartbeats. 

“Madaloa?”

“Yes?”

“May i kiss you?” I can help but smile, through the heartbreak. I don't want to hurt him, but i can't resist him either.

“Please.”

This time is different. When he pulls me in I know what to expect and close my eyes. It is warmth, and fire, and every brawl i've ever been in. Lips and teeth and tongue. A fight and a dance. We always were so good at sparring. He growls low in his throat and runs a hand down my back. I tremble like a flower in the wind. When I bite his lip, he gasps, and I devour him like the soul of a dragon. 

When we finally pull apart we are both breathing heavy. Faces flushed, lips swollen with stupid grins. 

“When do we leave?” 

“Tomorrow at noon”

I untangle myself from him and rise. 

“It's probably best not to tell anyone about this.” He says, hastily pulling on his armor.

“Tilda knows.” I say, and he chuckles

“There's nothing she doesn't know. No secret in these halls is safe from her, but she keeps them.”

He rises to his feet and stretches like a cat. I reach up to brush down his hair. Seems I've made a mess of it. Gods, I hope he won’t hate me. 

  
  


Opening the door, I immediately run into Farkas, blurry eyed and grinning as he looks between his brother and I. 

I blush, knowing how the situation looks.

“You owe me an armor upgrade.” I mutter.

“Shield sister i think you've already claimed your prize.” He shoots a devious grin to his brother. To his credit, Vilkas tries not to grin back. Anyone who ever called Farkas stupid has never been party to one of his pranks or bets. 


	8. A Secret Once Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up my friends. Get ready for some angst, a good old fashion fist fight, and a little bit of *backstory*! Mild adult content... you have been warned.

“So, you never told me where our adventure takes us.” Vilkas remarks. I've led him out of Whiterun, cutting a winding path for Riften through the woods.

“You should know who you are dealing with before casting your dice.” I say cryptically, stirring a pot of stew over the campfire. He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, placing a quick kiss on my neck. I sink back against him before coming back to my senses and pulling away. I've got to remember his honor. I pour us both a bowl of and settle in by the fire. 

“I’m in the Dark Brotherhood.” his spoon freezes halfway to his mouth. It’s the moment I’ve been dreading. The moment everything unravels. I can almost see his mind working, considering his next words carefully. 

“I take it this is what you’ve been dreading to tell me,” he gathers his composure admirably and begins to eat again, “so what? We’ve both killed for the Companions.”

“Not innocents. Not unarmed men and women who fall to the ground before they even register they are hurt. I am a  _ monster _ , Vilkas.” 

“Then why?” 

“To learn to kill without remorse. Without leaving a trace.”

“Did you? Learn I mean?”

“More than I should’ve and less than I’ll need.”

“But you do it for the greater good.”

“I bet you never thought you’d be defending an assassin. The ends don’t justify the means, don’t make me into a hero. We both know I’m not.”

“You aren’t evil, Madaloa.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He takes a deep breath, “Do you know when I first knew that you would make a good warrior?”

“When I kicked your ass?” I say. He chuckles.

“No. We were out on a contract, traveling a back way to some cave and ee came upon a fox, sorry little thing was near death. You healed it without even a pause to think that you should save your magic for battle, without a second thought.”

“Yeah, and then a hunter came along and killed it.”

“But you didn’t hurt the hunter. You just sighed.”

“How do you know that I wouldn’t have killed him if you weren’t there?”

“I don’t. Maybe you would have, but your first instinct is to help. You have a good heart, Madaloa, and I’ll stand by you.” 

“you deserve an honorable woman.”

“You forget my temper. I’m not perfect either.”

“Not perfect?” I shake my head, “How can you defend me? I've killed innocent people. I'm a murderer, no better than a low-life bandit.” 

He’s quiet for sometime. I knew he would come to hate me. 

“I dont know.” He puts his bowl aside and leans back, running a hand through his hair. 

“I understand if you want to leave” it’s hard to keep my voice steady, but I manage. Thief and assassin I may be, but liar I am not. 

“I dont.” His eyes meet mine across the fire. I don't try to hide my surprise.

“Did you really think i'd give up on you that easily?” He gives me a crooked smile.

“I wouldn't hold it against you if you did. I don't deserve your respect.” 

“You've earned more than my respect.” He scoots around the fire to take my hand. His sudden closeness makes my face flush. He interlaces our fingers. I think I might be trembling. I didn't expect him to be so… understanding.

“Is that the only reason you've brought me out here?” 

“Part of the reason’” i turn away to study the darkness at the edge of camp, “I thought it'd help if I introduced you to some of my other colleagues, and… my family.”

“Family? The brotherhood you mean?”

“No, my real kin. If you want to, i mean, i dont want to rush you, but you should know how deep the water is before jumping off a ledge.”

“Not at all, i just assummed that… well you never spoke of-”

“Yes I make a point not to. I don't come from a line of warriors and I have a lot of enemies. People would use them against me and if they died, i couldn't live with myself.”

“Then I'm honored that you thought to bring me.” He raises our hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. I turn back to him, heart racing. 

“Don't get too excited, first you have to dine with thieves and assassins,” I grin, “and don't worry, I'll make sure Cicero doesn't poison the potatoes.”

“Cicero?”

“Aye, the Keeper of the brotherhood. A friend, strange one to be sure, but trustworthy nonetheless.” 

“And the thieves guild?”

“They shouldnt give you any trouble, i'm the guildmaster afterall, when your with me they won't dare pick your pocket.”

“You're the guildmaster?” I wince. I got too excited and wasn't thinking. Perhaps he would still change his mind. 

“Yes, and Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Positions of power,” he gives a rueful smile “I expected nothing less from the dragonborn.”

“Certainly not what you expected from your harbinger.”

“No, I'll grant you that.”

“Kodlak made a grave mistake giving me the honor.”

“Not so. Tell me, Madaloa, what would you do if your brotherhood asked you to kill a member of the Companions?”

“Refuse. I would tell no one of the dark mother’s order, I would prevent it from being carried out.”

“And if the thieves asked you to sabotage us?”

“I wouldn't allow it. They would know better than to ask, no matter how good the pay.”

“Kodlak saw loyalty in you.” He pulls me close and folds me in his arms. 

“Loyalty is not honor.” He sighs deeply.

“Stop fighting our admiration.” 

“I thought you enjoyed a moral argument,” I tease, turning in his arms to face him.

“I do, especially when I'm the one winning.” 

“Liar!”

“You insult me harbinger, I would never lie to you.”

“Oh? What about the time you told me that you could take me in a fight.”

“I've beaten you plenty of times, whelp.” He laughs, “or do you need a reminder.”

“Is that a challenge?” I ask, excited at the possibility of a brawl. 

“It’s a threat.” I giggle and wriggle free of his arms. 

“Alright then, pick your poison, fists or swords?” I say, standing with a flourish. 

“Fists, i'd rather not dull my blade on your thick skull.”

“Head shots are dishonorable, shield-brother.” He rises to his feet. 

“That’s not what you said last week!”

“Oh please, that rule only applies to weapons, the only rule of fists is no groin shots.” We shed our weapons. 

“Someone ought to remind Aela.”

I begin to unbuckle my armor, it is light but the night is warm and I would be faster in only my linens.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep your pants on, i'm just taking off some weight.” I see him blush, perhaps I've found a new strategy. 

“Well if you're allowed to fight without yours,” he carefully removes his heavy armor, leaving a simple linen shirt and pants, “it's only fair.”

“Wise choice, and there's less of a chance of breaking my wrist on your iron.”

And so the fight begins. We circle each other slowly, testing out the terrain. I make the first move, feigning an uppercut and landing a low jab to his left side. Darting back, I gave him a quick grin.

“Too slow old man.” 

“Is that so?” He holds up a narrow strip of leather. I suddenly realise that he has taken my hair tie. Having loose hair is a disadvantage to be sure. 

“And here I thought  _ I _ was the thief.” 

I dodge a punch and whip around to face him. 

“If you wanted to pull my hair you could’ve just asked.” He shakes his head and grins. 

“Or perhaps you'd rather that I pull yours?” The second attempt at distraction paid off. I am able to land a one-two to his ribs before darting back.

“That is a most underhanded tactic my dear.” He lands a punch to my shoulder that threatens to send me spinning. Lucky i regain my footing quickly.

“I’ve no idea what you speak of, lover.” He turns crimson at the pet name and I grin wider.

Still, he blocks my next punch and lands a jab to my ribs. I smile wider still at the pain and shake the hair from my eyes. 

I dart in close and land a good blow to his chest, knocking his breath out and sending him stumbling back. He coughs.

“Good one.”

“Do you yield then?” I say, almost disappointed. 

“Never.” He rushes me, sweeping my legs out with his foot. I fall to my knees and roll out of the way, staggering to my feet.

“Once again my dear, if you wanted me on my knees you should have asked.” I come in for a punch to the jaw but he captures my hand and spins me, pinning my back against him.

“Perhaps i ought to teach you the meaning of your words, whelp.” He whispers in my ear, breath hot against my neck. I twist free, face burning. He laughs.

“What’s wrong, can’t take what you deal?” I swing around to face him. 

“Oh i think you'll see I can take it just fine.” I dart in for another punch, and when he attempts to pin me, I knock him back, sending us both tumbling to the earth. We wrestle briefly, and this time I come out on top. I pin his arms above his head and grin down at him, breathing heavy. 

“Yield?”

He flips us, wrenching his arms free and capturing mine. 

“Not quite.” He smirks. We are both tired from the fight. It would be best if I accepted defeat. But i cant help teasing him.

“So you prefer to be on top then hmm?” 

He kisses me, arms still pinned above my head in his strong grip. 

“For all your honeyed words you still tremble so when i kiss you.” He murmurs against my lips, gently releasing my hands. 

“Rather rude to mock my inexperience,” he leans back, “perhaps I ought to teach you a lesson.” 

Surprised by my own boldness, I pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss him soundly. I let my hands wander. Tracing his shoulder blades, tangling in his hair. His hands move slowly, tracing my curves with as much reverence as a worshiper at their altar. We finally pull away, gasping for air. 

“We should stop” he says.

“Is that what you want?”

“No”

And he leans back in, trailing kisses down my throat, pulling a deep groan from my lips. 

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he murmurs against my neck, hands playing at the edge of my shirt. I flip us over, straddling him.

“Don't you dare,” I laugh, eyes bright, hair wild. Our lips find each other once more. Battling for dominance. I haven't felt a hunger this strong since ridding myself of the beast blood. His hands slip under my shirt, trailing fire up my torso.

There's too much between us. I tug on his shirt and he leans forward to help me take it off. He gasps when my fingertips trace paths of blades long since defeated. Warmth seeping through my palm. I turn my eyes away, heart beating fast.

“Madaloa?” He gently turns my face to him, “look at me.”

“I… i’m frightened.”

He gently pushes the hair from my face. 

“It’s ok to not be ready, love,” he sits up gently, pulling his shirt back on.

“I’m sorry” I slide off his lap, face burning.

“Don't be, you're worth the wait.” He shifts uncomfortably. “But perhaps we could talk of something else for a while?”

“Oh. Right.” I turn redder still, trying to think of a distraction. This I can do. I'm good at distractions. 

“Would you like to hear about my family?” I ought to tell him anyway, he’ll find out soon enough.

“I'd love to.”

“My parents died when I was young, a bandit raid, i hardly remember them. My mam’s mum took me in, raised me.” 

“Im sorry.”

“Don't be, i was so young i don't remember what happened. My granny is my family. I wish i could have known them but…”

“You’re still happy with the family you have now.” Vilkas smiles knowingly.

“Exactly.” I smile back. “Granny is a woodcutter. Very no nonsense person, i think you’ll like her.”

“No nonsense eh? what's that supposed to mean?”

“It means your a stiff,” I tease and we both chuckle, “no, in all seriousness she’s a lot like you. Bit too stern perhaps, but focused… determined. She had to be, to get us by.

I had some cousins too. They didn't live close but whenever they’d visit we got into all sorts of trouble. That's how I learned of my talent for magic. I wasn't trained of course, granny couldn't afford lessons for me, but i practiced on myself, my cousins. They taught me to pick locks and hold a sword. Granny worked her fingers to the bone. But somehow she still managed to teach me to read and write and draw back a bow string to put food on the table.

For a while I was a healer, brought in a bit more money for us. Granny could finally afford a warm coat for herself. I was so proud that day. And my cousins, they got into some rougher stuff, thieving and the like, and I'd patch them up on their way through. I grew up wild.”

“Makes sense, you are wild.” 

“You're one to talk, consorting with an assassin.” 

“I like to live dangerously. So how'd you end up in Helgen then, Lady Healer?”

“Thalmor bastards arrested me. Wanted to know how I taught myself to heal with no training. I killed them, stole their gold, but i got knocked to the head pretty bad, couldn't figure out where i was. Apparently near some border and well, you know the rest. I went home to tell granny i was safe, but on the way i discovered i was dragonborn and i couldn't stay. I couldn't put her in danger.” 

“Does she know?”

“Not everything, she knows i'm the Dovakiin, but i can't bring myself to tell her about the thieves guild, or the brotherhood. I know she'd understand, she always did what she had to to keep me fed, but i want her to be proud of me, even if no one can know where i went or who i am.”

We’re silent, watching the fire fade to embers as the night grows late. 

“You shouldn't be ashamed to be a mercenary, after all what's an assassin but a skilled sellsword?”

“Don't justify it, you know it's wrong.”

“Aye, but it's you. And you aren't wrong.” He takes my hand again, thumb tracing gentle patterns on my skin.

“I don't deserve you.” I say softly. 

“You deserve the world.” 

“I dont, but i'll take it anyway.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thank you for reading. I am all caught up on the story, so it may be a few days until the next post, sorry about that. But worry not, I will return. Madaloa won't leave me alone until I finish her story. Sneaky little assassin, she keeps me from my real life responsibilities with her harebrained schemes... Reality is overrated anyway.
> 
> On a different note, this chapter reminds me of a song from Heathers the Musical... I bet you clever folk can guess which one ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I rather think it is time for a family reunion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't mind the lack of editing, I was so excited to get this chapter out that it is probably a mess...

Since defeating my beast, I’ve always appreciated that the Ratway doesn’t smell near as bad as it did before. Vilkas has no such comparison. The smell is quite an affront, but he doesn’t complain as I led him down winding tunnels to the Ragged Flagon. I figured it best that I didn’t bring him into our headquarters without warning. Thieves aren’t a naturally trusting folk. 

“Madaloa! Good to see you again, and in one piece no less. ” Vex exclaims as I enter, waving me over to where she leans against the rail. She smiles like a cat with a canary. 

“But who is this? A new recruit perhaps?”

“Vex, this is Vilkas. Vilkas, this is Vex. A colleague of mine. We were passing through and I remembered that Thrynn owed me some coin, thought I'd stop in to collect so I can buy supplies for our contract.”

“Interesting choice. If I’m not mistaken that is Companion armor.”

She gives me an appraising look. I know she’s not convinced. Why am I such a terrible liar?

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad to meet you, good sir.” She shakes his hand. 

“Any friend of Madaloa’s is a friend of mine.” he responds. Something about the way she looks at him makes me uncomfortable. 

“I’ll fetch Thrynn, that bandit fool ought to know better than to bet against you by now.” 

As soon as she is well out of hearing range, I whisper to Vilkas.

“Thrynn is my cousin. No one here knows of course, but I thought… i,” i stumble over my words. What was I thinking?

“Thought i'd like to meet him?”

“No, i guess i thought if i introduced you to the people i steal for, that maybe you wouldn't end up hating me for what i do.”

“Madaloa-“

“No vilkas, you haven't thought this through. I know that right now you're caught up in this,” i gesture between us, “but i-“

“Is this a bad time?” Thrynn pops up out of nowhere. I jump in my seat, instinctively reaching for my dagger. 

“I thought you weren't a sneak!”

“I've been practicing, now if you don't mind i'd like to speak to you privately about my debt.”

I stand stiffly, casting my eyes around. I hope no one else heard our conversation. Thrynn I could trust, but the rest of the guild… 

“Caught yourself a handsome man, eh cous?” Thrynn teases.

“Keep your voice down idiot,” I grin at him.

“Ah come on, live a little. Bout time you had some fun.”

“Did you call me over only to tease?”

“Mainly, but also to give you a warning.”

“Warning? Is your father well? Did granny say something?”

“No, our family is fine. It's about Brynjolf. He isn't gonna like meeting your _particular_ friend.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Are you really so blind to the ways of men? I almost can't believe we’re related.”

“Oh shut up, your romantic endeavors have caused more problems than your thieving, and i should know, from nursing your ungrateful ass back to health.” He chuckles.

“Aye, but he’s sweet on you, Madaloa.” 

“And how is that my concern? He’s a grown man, it's not my place to coddle his feelings.”

“Spoken like a true warrior. Perhaps you learned more from me than i thought, oh heartless one.”

“Ah piss off, idiot.” He laughs and ruffles my hair. I glare up at him.

“In all seriousness, you must be in pretty deep. To bring him here.”

“I know, the stench alone would send weaker men running.” 

“Just be careful, cousin. And know that if he hurts you, i'll gut him myself.”

“As if you could beat Granny to the task.” We both smile.

“How about you meet me by the river, I take it that's why you've come, to introduce your man to the family’s favorite!”

“Your humbleness knows no bounds, Thrynn,” i shake my head in mock exasperation, “but that's probably a good idea.”

I return to Vilkas.

“Thrynns a little shy, he wants to meet outside of town, by the river.”

“Shy huh? That explains,” he gestures at Thyrnn in the corner, who’s making a neck slicing motion, “that.”

I laugh, surprising myself. I led Vilkas out of the ratway, grateful to be out in fresher air. 

We make our way down the river to a spot Thrynn and I discovered a while back. He has always taken the same precaution that I have, so we use it for secret conversations about our family. 

“Madaloa?”

“Hmm?” I say, jumping from one rock to another on the edge of the path. 

“What did you mean, back at the bar? Why are you so certain that i'll hate you.”

I pause. 

“I would, if i were in your shoes.” I continue my little game of hopping. Vilkas walks on the trail beside me, like a sensible person.

“You'd hate me for being an assassin”

“No, I suppose that I wouldn't.” I botch a landing and trip. Vilkas catches my arm with the steady practice of someone who is used to my antics. 

“But i don't have your strength of character. You talk of honor and glory and wisdom, whereas i-“

“You value these ideals too.”

“Yes but i-”

“I'm not one to change my mind, Madaloa, if i give you my love it is yours for life-”

“That's the thing!” I yell. I can see that I’ve startled him, so I take a step back and try to calm myself.

“I don't want to steal your heart, only for you to realize that i'm a bad person and regret it.” 

“Regret it?” His voice rises, “If you knew how long i've loved you-“

“Another bad time?” Thrynn pops up from behind a tree. I feel my face grow warm as I turn to face him. I catch a wary look in Vilkas’ eye.

“Don't worry, he won't try anything.” I whisper.

“Thrynn, this is my friend Vilkas.”

“Hurt her and i'll mount your head on a pike.” 

“Thrynn’s a real charmer, as you can see.” I explain helpfully.

“Honored to meet you Thrynn.”

“Honored to meet a thief? This one might just be strange enough for you, Loa”

“ _Loa_?” Vilkas shoots me a dastardly grin. I try not to smile.

“Shut up, _Vilky_ ” 

“So, you're the thieving bastard who stole my cousin’s heart, hmm?” Thrynn crosses his arms and leans back against a tree, giving Vilkas an appraising look. “About time, I was beginning to think she would die an old maid.”

“There is nothing wrong with dying an old maid, you ass.” I shot back, giving his shoulder a little push.

“On the contrary, I try to save women from such a dark fate whenever I can. See Companion, I'm a noble man too.”

“I can see where Madaloa gets her sense of humor.”

“A family illness, I'm afraid. Be careful, it might be contagious.” I spare a glance to the darkening skies.

“I’ll set up camp, if you two can be trusted not to wreak havoc in my absence.” I say, giving Thrynn a mock dubious look. 

“When have I ever caused mayhem cousin?” 

“Best not to get me started,” I say with a laugh.

A few yards away, I set a fire and roll out my bedroll. By the time I've finished, Vilkas and Thrynn are deep into a conversation about my childhood antics. This was definitely a mistake, i muse. 

“-And there’s little Loa, covered in blood, holding a little rabbit going “granny can i keep it?!”

“Really cousin will you ever let me live that down?”

“Not on my honor!”

“She tried the same stunt with the companions, but it was a frost spider! Couldn't coax my poor brother out’ve that tree.” I'm surprised to hear Vilkas chime in, at least until I notice that Thrynn has broken out the mead. That's one way to get him to talk.

“Hey! I killed it when Aela told me of his distaste for them!”

“Not before the Kodlak came running to see who was being murdered!”

I smile fondly at the memory, reflecting on our loss.

“Alright cousin, what about the time you went about town bragging about bedding that guard’s wife, and the next week you show up on our doorstep half dead!”

“Which time?” He shots back with a grin. I shake my head. 

“When are you gonna settle down with a nice girl and stop giving me gray hairs?” I say in my best impression of Granny. 

“Don't do that!” He laughs, “I nearly ran for cover.”

“And Vilkas! What of the time i had to fish you out of the town well-“

“That was Farkas’ fault!”

“Ahh but who was down the well?” I nudge Thrynn with my elbow, “came out looking like a drowned skeever, scowl and all!”

“I could see that,” he smirks at Vilkas, “i'd begun to think he couldn't smile at anyone but you, before i got him drinking.” We all laugh. 

“You want to see a smile, you should see us spar.” Vilkas says, and I turn a little red, remembering our last bout. 

“Aye, is that where that hickey came from?” 

“Shove off, bastard! That's a bruise. And he should know better than anyone how much i love a brawl. I've kicked his ass across Skyrim!” I exclaim.

“It's true, our little Loa has always been a fighter.” He ruffles my hair again.

“I gathered as much from what you've told me,” Vilkas smirks at me, “something about a cattleman?” I groan.

“That bastard deserved it! ” i point an accusing finger at Thrynn, “And don't let him fool you, he helped!”

“Well, what could he expect?” Thrynn leans back against a tree with a grin, “breaking my little sister's heart.”

“I hear he still can't walk without a limp, we should never have ganged up on him.”

“Wait, how many cousins do you have?” 

“Five, and all of them are bastards just like this fool in front of you!”

“Four,” Thrynn says quietly. Silence falls, dark as night.

“I’d better be getting back to the guild,” Thrynn says, brushing dirt from his tunic as he stands.

“Yes, that is for the better. I'll give Granny your love on my way through.”

“You’re introducing him to granny?” He gives Vilkas another appraising look. 

“Yes, what of it?” I say, defensively.

“Nothing, just surprised is all,” he fixes Vilkas with a cold stare, “you treat her well, ya hear?”

“I have more self preservation than that,” he gives me a small smile, “she could take me down in the blink of an eye.”

“Kinky,” Thrynn jokes, turning to go, “Alright, have fun kids. And don't forget to use protection eh.”

“By Talos, cousin, you could turn a Dibella worshiper red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't expect to post for a few more days, but I couldn't get this scene out of my head, and I have you lovely folk to blame for it, haha. In all seriousness, *que heartfelt piano music*, I really appreciate you all taking the time out of your days to listen to my ramblings. Your support means more to me than I can say without getting totally mushy "steal yourself Ms. Chaos, these lovely people aren't here for a cheesy end note" That was Madaloa, she says hi... 
> 
> On a different note, I may or may not have written the well scene. Would you all like to hear it? I could a little flashback, might be a good break from the next chapter in fact, because it is d a r k... Let me know in the comments if you'd like to hear about Vilkas' time in the well :)


	10. FLASHBACK: The Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your regularly scheduled programing for a brief diversion. Anonymous Chaos proudly presents... The Well Scene

This last mission was exhausting. As the Companion’s newest recruit, I didn't expect to be handed all the good jobs, quite the contrary, but there is something about rescuing entitled, rich men that makes my skin crawl. Perhaps the way they order me to cook for them when we make camp. Or maybe it’s the way they leer at me, as though I couldn't kill them without lifting a hand. 

Don't get me wrong, I love a good rescue mission. There’s something so clean about reuniting a family, saving a lost soul. But this last job...

I stumbled into Whiterun early in the morning, yawning wide enough to split my skull. The guard at the gate took one look at me and thought it wise to say,

“Now i remember! You're the newest member of the companions, so what, you fetch the mead?”

To which i replied

“No! I fetch spoiled little rich boys and the skulls of my enemies!” 

I'll admit, it wasn't my finest moment, but i was tired.

I stumbled up the path to Jorrvaskr. Passing sleepy guards and empty streets. When I passed the shops, I noticed that there was no guard on duty. An uncommon occurrence to be sure. I look around, noticing the cover was off the well. I peered over the edge.

“ _Well_ _well_ , what do we have here?” 

“Whelp?” Vilkas called from the bottom. I chuckled.

“Bold words from someone trapped in a well. Gotten yourself into some _deep water_ , have you, shield-brother?” 

“Farkas.” He responded shortly.

“Ahh. _Well_ , fear not, your savior has arrived.” I pulled off my pack, digging through until I found some rope. I wasn't strong enough to pull him out on my own, I had to be resourceful. 

“Can you climb?”

“Aye.” 

I cast one end of the rope down the well and ran the other across to the post of Belethor’s store. I tied a good, strong knot and experimentally hit it with a strengthening spell. It seemed to do the trick.

“That should hold.”

It took him some time to climb out. When he emerged, his dark hair was matted, warpaint smeared. I smiled at his scowl.

“You're welcome!” I said, with all the bubbly cheer of Ria after killing a bear.

“Thanks,” he grunted. I watched with amusement as he skulked back towards the mead hall. Suddenly less tired, I skipped up beside him.

“I do believe you owe me an explanation, brother.”

“Did you finish that contract?” 

“Aye, did you find your lost coin in the well?” He scoffed. It wasn't my best joke, but i was tired.

“Farkas bet me 20 septim that I couldn't climb on top of the well. Bastard cut a notch in the lid so it would break.” I laughed, much to his displeasure.

“It would seem he paid off the guard to keep you from getting out too. You'll have to think of something mighty clever to get him back.”

“Do you like spiders?” He asked, out of nowhere. I could almost detect a flicker of a smile in his stern frown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, as delivered. Get ready for some angst and a ~tragic~ backstory in the next installation of Thieves, Assassins, and Honorable Men!


	11. Joining the Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready for some sadness? 
> 
> I certainly wasn't, which is why this chapter is unedited. Please forgive me...

The next morning we pack for the road, still a bit hungover from the night before. 

“Brotherhood next, I assume?”

“That’s right.” I say, feeling sick to my stomach. What would he think of my fellow assassins? 

“Can I ask you something,  _ little Loa. _ ”

“Keep it up, I’ll make you carry the cooking pot!” he chuckles and pulls the cast iron pan from my hands, securing it to his own pack.

“How did you end up in the brotherhood?” I freeze.

“You really want to know?” he nods, eyes unreadable. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat.

“Do you remember wiping out the silver hand?”

“Of course.”

“It was like that. I… I...” I sit down, leaning my head against a tree, and restart.

“I’m sure you noticed my little counting error last night? Well, the truth is that I had five cousins.”

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it-”

“No,” I sigh, “You deserve to know.” 

“My youngest cousin was named Tristl. We used to call her Tree… She was the best of us. Kind, mild tempered, honorable. She wanted to be a bard, of all things. As far as the singing, she had no equal, but she was shit with the lyre,” I smile sadly, “she saved for years to afford that school. Played every wedding, spent her nights singing at the bars. I should have kept a better eye on her. I knew those inns were trouble. I should’ve-” I cut myself off, fighting back tears. 

“You can’t protect everyone, Madaloa.” Vilkas sits beside me. I take a ragged breath.

“I have to,” I swallow hard, “one night, a group of ruffians was at the bar, bandits we found out later. They took a fancy to her. They kidnapped her, they…”

“You don’t have to say it, I get the picture.” 

“Well, I hunted them down. Every last one. Gutted them. But I was still so angry. I wanted to kill, I craved blood. This was before the Companions, mind, I wasn’t a wolf. Just  _ hungry _ … and then I heard a rumor. 

This little kid wanted a woman dead. She ran an orphanage, treated those poor kids like dirt. I felt for him, I’d gotten my revenge, why shouldn't he? So I killed her. In front of all those children. Burned her alive. Payed off my bounty, lucky I had enough on me, had just raided a crypt. Went about my business, until I got this letter. The brotherhood had noticed. They kidnapped me one night, from the side of the road. Brought me to an old shack and said that I had to kill one of the captives. I stole their kill, they said it was payback. I wasn’t going to… but then one of them, a merchant I think he was, said he was a “defiler of daughters” and I just… lost it. The brotherhood was impressed. Invited me to join. And I was still so angry, and I missed having a family, and when I walked in the sanctuary and all these people treated me like their sister... It felt like I had a family that I didn’t have to hide from the world. They were assassins after all, they could protect themselves. At least I thought…”

“The raid.”

“Word travels, hmm? What the public doesn’t know is that it was an inside job. To make a very, very long story short, my sister, Astrid, betrayed me to save the others. I can’t fault her for that. But the man she made a deal with double crossed us. They butchered us. Only three survived. Babette, Nazir, and Cicero. Of course Cicero’s story is a bit more complicated than that, but that’s a tale for another time.” 

We are silent for a long time. He pulls me into his lap and gently wipes the tears from my eyes with his thumb.

“Revenge isn’t worth it. It doesn’t bring them back. But now, they’re my family. And I won’t stop fighting for them.” 

“I know, it’s alright love.” He kisses my forehead. We stay that way for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

By the time we break camp, the morning has grown bright. 

“So, where are we headed?”

“Dawnstar, i've sent a letter to inform the brotherhood that i'll be passing through with a friend, they'll meet us at the pub.” 

“When did you have time to do that?”

“I'm full of surprises,” i wink.

“Aye, it's one of your many character flaws,” he teases.

“My only flaw is falling in love with a fool like you.” 

“We’re all fools in love.” I try not to grin and have as much success as a hoarker trying to tap dance. 

  
  



	12. A Necessary Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone call the dentist, we're all gonna have cavities after this sickeningly fluffy chapter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 1am, and I refuse to apologize for it...
> 
> Gods I'm tired hahahaha

“So…”

“Yes?” I ask, looking up from my map. Vilkas wears a strange expression and a red face.

“What is it love?”

“Your cousin mentioned… well i just think we should- uh” he coughs, clearly flustered, “protection?”

“I have my sword?”

“No i mean-“

“Oh, that kind of protection!” I say flippantly, “i've got it covered”

“What?” I reach into my pack and ruffle through my potions, pulling out that familiar blue bottle.

“It's a tonic. I take it daily. Gran was very insistent on our education, made sure all of us knew how to make it, even the boys.”

“Oh, how long have you been planning this then?” He regains his composure quickly and shoots me a devious smile.

“I've always taken it,” I shrug, “ever since I left home. It has other benefits you know, scoundrel.”

“Scoundrel hmm? Says the lady carrying a copy of the Lusty Argo-“

“How did you know about that!” I feel my face flush and he grins.

“I didn't,” He starts to laugh, “but i do now!”

“You bastard!” He takes off running and I give chase. I catch up to him shortly, but he evades me, darting around a tree.

“True nords never back down from a fight!” I say in mock anger.

“Where'd you read that?” He cackles.

I finally catch his arm and drag him back to the road.

“You have insulted my honor good sir! I demand a boon.” He smiles down at me.

“What do you require to satisfy your honor, milady?” He teases.

“A kiss, perhaps?” 

“Consider it done.” 

He laughs and leans down to kiss me. I feel a slow warmth spread throughout. We have to stop because we are both giggling too much to continue. And for a moment, ever so small as it was, I'm not dragonborn, thief, assassin, or warrior. I'm just Madaloa. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be much mischief ahead, my friends (not like that! get your heads out of the gutter!...ok maybe some of that, but that is beside the point) Stay tuned ;)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a murder family reunion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! This is the first chapter that I had trouble writing... the characters were all over the place in my head, couldn't decide on a plot line... 
> 
> "Gods damn it Cicero put down that dagger!"  
> "Cicero will put down the dagger when Ms. Writer puts down the ellipsis!"  
> "Fight me you damned murder jester!"
> 
> Anyway, it's a short one, since my little imaginary friends wouldn't play nice... hope you enjoy!

“Soooo” Babette gives me a meaningful look.

“Yes?” I ask.

“You haven’t brought this boy here from necessity alone.” 

“What do you mean?” I look up from my coin purse to meetr ee. Back at our table, i hear Nazir sigh in annoyance as Cicero quietly starts singing his little murder song. 

The meeting went surprisingly well. Cicero didn't stab anyone, which is always a good sign, and Vilkas seemed genuinely interested to learn the stories of my fellow assassins and our guild’s history.

“I've been around a long time,” she says as I pay for our meal, “I've gotten good at reading human… intentions.”

“I won't lie, I had my reasons for wanting to introduce him to the brotherhood.” I say, cringing when the barmaid calls Babette my daughter. We return to the table, her eyes fixed on me like she can read my very thoughts. 

“So, Cicero,” i start, sensing that if i let him sing for much longer Nazir will lose his patience, “i trust your last contract went well?”

“Yes! Yes! Cicero sent that  _ naughty _ guard to the dark father!” He laughs in that familiar, unsettling way, “he didn't even have time to shriek!”

I shift uncomfortably. 

“And Nazir, I heard you found a new recruit?” He chuckles darkly.

“Indeed. Young boy has quite the taste for blood…”

“He’s a vampire isn't he?” Nazir nods, smug grin on his face, “you tease Cicero for being a jester, and yet you make jokes all day! Perhaps you have more in common than you think” i tease and Babette laughs.

“Ahh but Cicero  _ is  _ the laughter!” Cicero giggles, “Nazir only borrows it”

“We have much in common,” Nazir says to everyone's surprise, “we are both fine killers.”

“So, warrior,” Nazir fixes Vilkas with a stare, “have any stories of your own?” 

I take Vilkas’ hand under the table. 

“Aye, a few.” He says, voice steady.

“Do tell.” 

“Why did you bring him, Madaloa?” Babette interrupts suddenly. The eyes of three deadly assassins and a warrior find me.

“I was wondering the same thing.” Nazir says, “A Companion, a man of honor, no offense Vilkas,”

“None taken?”

“Cicero knows why! Cicero sees… everything.” He titters.

“Quiet Jester!” Nazir snaps.

“Be nice!” I say, fixing Nazir with a stern look.

“Well,” i start, “i figured that since Vilkas and I will be traveling together more frequently, it would be best if everyone was acquainted, so there aren't any misunderstandings” 

“But the protection you granted the companions applies to him already,” Babette says, eyes trained on my face, “you must have an alternative motive”

“Cicero can tell! Madaloa  _ loves _ him! She brings us the warrior to get our _approval_!” 

“I'm not asking for anyone’s approval, Cicero,” i say, face turning red.

“So you love him?” 

“... yes”

“Thank Sithis!” Nazir grins, “we thought you were trying to recruit him.”

“What?”

“He’s certainly a fine warrior,” Babette gives Vilkas a once over, “but much too noticeable to be an assassin.” 

The tension that held us slowly releases its grasp.

“What does that mean?” Vilkas asks with a frown.

“It means you're too pretty to go unnoticed!” I say with a sweet smile.

“Rude!” Nazir says dramatically. 

“You're pretty too boys, just in a... quieter way,” Babette reassures them with a toothy smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as I am writing it


	14. The Unwilling Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa has a gods damned savior complex and Vilkas is a sweet little cinnamon roll

“So, you think I'm pretty?” We've moved on, leaving Dawnguard and the Brotherhood in our journey west. 

“Pretty arrogant!” I laugh, bumping shoulders with Vilkas.

“You've just dined with Sithis worshipping assassins and that's all you have to say?” I reach up to ruffle his hair, much to his annoyance.

“I don't know what else to say…” my smile fades.

“Do you want to go back to Whiterun?” I ask solemnly, kicking a pebble down the road.

“No.” 

I fix my eyes on the path. We walk in silence.

Finally, I let out a frustrated sigh.

“If you don't tell me what you're thinking, I feel as though i am in serious danger of exploding!” He chuckles softly.

“Is that so?”

“Aye,” I hold out my hands, “See that! Steam!” 

To hide my exaggeration, I let out a little puff of fire magic, sending smoke dancing into the air before us.

“A serious ailment indeed.” 

“And you hold the only cure!” He grants me a half smile. 

“I suppose that I'm confused.” He says, taking my hand and placing a light kiss on my open palm. My pulse jumps like a startled rabbit. 

“Madaloa, why do you go back when you clearly hate being an assassin?” 

“How do you know i hate it?”

“It's in your eyes. You ask your family about their contracts, laugh at their grisly jokes, but you seem so… revolted.”

“How did you learn to read me so well? I thought i could hide it.”

“I've had practice.”

“Been staring at me for a long time, have you?” 

“No hiding behind jokes this time, my love.” He threads our fingers together and we resume walking.

“I never wanted to be the listener. I never wanted to be in charge.”

“I can see that, so why bother?”

“I… I can’t just leave them. Not after what Astrid did, it’s… I’m all they have, without me there is no Brotherhood, and as much as I’d love to stop, I know that they care about it too much.”

“It’s not your responsibility to keep their dreams alive, not when it hurts you.” 

“How did you get so wise, old man?” I chuckle sadly, “It’s not so bad, really, I haven’t had to complete a contract in over a year, I just relay the information that the dark mother gives… but...”

“But you still hold yourself responsible.”

“Aye. It’s my burden to carry. Someday Sithis will choose someone else, and I will be free, but I can’t… I won’t…”

“I understand, just,” he pauses, eyes meeting mine, “promise me that you won’t torture yourself?”

I’m silent for some time, watching the road carry us west, to my real home, my real family.   
“Please, Madaloa.”

“I can’t promise that, Vilkas. You know I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa has some terribly unhealthy worldviews... Remember, my friends, it's never your job to destroy yourself for someone else. You come first! 
> 
> "Kinky" ;)  
> "Shut up Thrynn, you sneaky little Bastard! And get out of my brain, you aren't in this chapter!"


	15. *A break for weary travelers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: contains adult themes *wiggles eyebrows*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my God, Okay, it’s happening! Everybody stay calm!”  
> “What’s the procedure?”  
> “Stay fucking calm!”
> 
> Yes, we all know what that little asterisk in the chapter title means. Please read responsibly ;) 
> 
> If you aren't comfortable reading smut, or it's just not your thing, feel free to skip this chapter! I made sure not to include any major plot points for that exact reason.

“That bear came out of nowhere!” I exclaim, carefully pulling one of my expensive glass arrows from the aforementioned creature’s corpse. 

“Aye, bugger got my back pretty good too.” I toss the arrow back in its quiver, not bothering to clean it, and hurry over to Vilkas to examine the wound. Blood oozes slowly from under the tear in his armor.

“It doesn’t seem to have hit anything important, I’ll heal it.” 

“Thank you” 

“Actually,” I say, giving the wound another quick look and casting a glance around at our surroundings, “This would heal better if I cleaned it first. There’s an abandoned bandit camp up ahead, do you think you could make it?”

“Certainly,” he grunts, pushing himself to his feet, “I’ve travelled farther with worse”

“Braggart,” I tease, “just follow me, and try not to bleed all over yourself.”

“Such terrible bedside manner, I can hardly believe you were once a healer!”

Inside the cobwebbed little tower, I quickly start a fire and lay out my medical equipment on the little wooden table. 

“We can stay here tonight, if you wish, We’ve quite a journey ahead of us, and it’s better to let a wound settle after it's been healed.” 

Vilkas nods absently as he removes his armor. I turn back to him, and my breath catches in my throat. I shake myself out of it. Mind out of the gutter, woman!

The gash extends from the top of his left shoulder to the middle of his back. It is fairy deep, and clogged with bits of fabric and fur. 

I heat some water and set to cleaning it. Throat uncomfortably dry. 

“You’re awfully quiet, my dear.”I jump when Vilkas speaks.

“Hmm? Just a little distracted is all. It’s nothing.” I call my magika to my hands and gently trace my clean fingertips along the wound, watching flesh knit back together. 

“Much better,” Vilkas sighs. I stand quickly and start to pack my healing tools. Vilkas examines his armor.

“Do you have more water? I’ll need to clean this.” I avert my gaze as I fetch him the pail of warm water. 

“Is everything alright, love?” I fiddle with the edge of my sleeve, face redding, and return to the little table. He rises and walks toward me, gently turning me to face him. 

“Love?” he asks, studying me.

“I want you,” I whisper, eyes locking with his. I see the beginnings of a cocky smile form on his face.

“Oh?” He teases. I suddenly notice that he is still shirtless.

“I’ll fetch some more water,” I turn to go, but he gently grabs my arm.

“Madaloa? Is that really what you want to do?” That smug grin has settled now. His eyes are full of mischief. My face is unbearably warm, heart racing, breath fast, like I’ve been in a fight. 

“No” And I reach up to kiss him. Hands trace his shoulders, fingertips along his newly healed scar. His arms wrap around me, keeping me steady. I feel dizzy. 

“Madaloa,” he gasps, and all thoughts leave my mind except for the way his voice catches on my name, like the final rhyme in a song. I pull him closer, backing us into the table. 

“Vilkas,  _ please _ .” his hands find my waist and help lift me onto the table. All I feel is fire. Coursing through my veins. We are nothing but desire. 

“Are you sure, my love?” his eyes find mine, cheeks flushed, lips red. I couldn’t be more sure.

“Please, take me” I whisper in his ear. 

“Manners suit you, my dear.” he laughs between kisses. Calloused hands creeping below my armor. 

“Don’t get used to it!” I help him pull off my chest plate and bracers. My undershirt is soaked with sweat. I yank it off, along with my chest band, frustrated by the simple barrier. I don’t realise what I’ve done until I hear Vilkas groan deep in his throat. His eyes devor me, but his hands trace my body with the gentleness of a repentant sinner. 

“Gods, you're beautiful.” I’m beyond blushing by this point; now is the time for action not words. I pull him closer still. Tongues battling for dominance. I've murdered, thieved, and nearly died more times than i can count, but never have i felt such a rush. 

I lose my grieves, not caring for where they fall. 

He draws his lips down my throat, planting kisses and gentle bites along the way. Hands drifting lower, teasing the edge of my drawers. I reach for his belt, but his hand catches mine, quick as a fox with a rabbit.

“Tsk, you aren't ready for that love” he moves against me, and I couldn't disagree more.

“Who are you to tell me what I'm ready for?” He laughs breathily in my ear.

“Well, as the one with more experience on the matter-“

“Experience? I wasn't aware I was bedding a rake.” I tease, hands creeping up to give a gentle tug to a lock of his hair. 

“A rake you say?” He unbuckles my pants with a devious glint to his eye.

“I'll show you a rake” and he pulls them off with enough force to tear the seam. I squeal. 

“Vilkas! You'll be fixing those!” 

“I have to repair my armor anyway.” His hands trail up my thighs slowly. 

“Are you sure you're ready, love?”

“I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” I gaze at him in adoration, “are you? Ready I mean?”

“I've wanted this since the moment i first heard you laugh.” His smile is radiant. I can't help but kiss him. 

His hands tease me where I am most sensitive. It's a battle and a dance. And I almost think I've won when he stops. He fumbles with his belt clumsily. I lend a hand and we rid him of the offending garment. 

His eyes met mine, asking the question he's too eager to say. I nod. Our lips find each others once more as I draw him close.

There is a pain, slight but true. I wince.

“We can stop if you need to,” he holds me close. I rather think he would prefer to do anything but stop, but his honor demands that I am well. I smile against his neck.

“Don’t stop.” 

He moves against me slowly and I gasp. This feels different than before. Somehow less and somehow more, but all at once incredible. 

“Am i hurting you, love?” He stops moving, much to my disappointment. 

“No, it feels… good.” He laughs. 

“Aye, i do believe that's the point.” I wiggle my hips experimentally, delighting in the growl it pulls from his lips. 

“Little warning next time?” He says through gritted teeth, “keep that up and we’ll be over before we’ve begun.” 

We move together, something building deep inside. 

I once stood at the edge of the ocean and let the tide pull at my bare feet. I feel that same receding tug, until the wave hits. The ocean was ice, but this is pure fire. 

I sigh his name until my throat is sore. 

We lay by the fire now, wrapped in eachothers arms and its warm glow. 

“How was it?” He asks, “like your little book?” I smack his arm playfully.

“No book could compare to you.” 

“I'm honored.” 

“A book couldn't mend my drawers either,” I remind him with a smirk. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not edit this. It's my first time writing smut ok, I'm a little embarrassed and ~wired~. I think I'll go take a very cold shower now, or perhaps just roll in a snow bank. I have to hand it to lemon writers, that was a very difficult scene to put into words. Kudos to you brave souls. Let me know if there's any improvements I can make to my writing, I am doing this to improve my writing skills. 
> 
> I'll probably be taking a few days break from the story, because my wrist hurts (not like that you perv!). I'm also a visual artist and I've overworked it this week. My wrist compression gloves help immensely, but we'll see how it feels tomorrow. Then again, this strange little story has consumed my every waking hour lately, so I might not take any time off. Madaloa keeps me awake at night just as much as she keeps Vilkas awake ;) granted for very different reasons... 
> 
> Anyway, I'm off to the snow bank, have a lovely evening my friends!


	16. When Morning Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff for you my friends?

The morning is cold and bright. I wake before Vilkas. I never noticed that he snores. It’s such a soft sound that it barely classifies as a snore, especially when compared to his brother’s thunderous roar. I  gently trace his jaw with my fingertips, finding the faintest scar on his lower lip. He doesn't scowl so much when he sleeps, it makes him look younger, more his age. 

He grumbles in his sleep and pulls me closer. I jump when his cold nose nuzzles my neck, startling him awake.

“Good morning,” I whisper with a little smile.

“Am i dreaming?” 

“Aye, you actually bedded a hagraven.” He laughs sleepily. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, gently cupping my face in his palm. His fingers are freezing.

“Cold.” He smiles.

“I'd best start the fire then.” He pulls back the blankets. The invasion of cold air makes us both shiver violently. 

“Don't bother,” i say, quickly grabbing the first piece of clothing I find from the floor and yanking it over my head, “I can do it faster.”

“Stealing my shirt again?” He teases.

“Get used to it!” I say, hastily stacking firewood into the pit.

I pull magic from the air, warming my hands with the blaze and casting it into the fire pit. The effect is immediate, dousing the small stone room in warmth. We inch closer to the fire. 

“Where to next, shirt thief?”

“We’ve a week’s travel ahead of us. If we took a direct path it would be much shorter, but i want to make sure we go unnoticed, so we'll be leaving behind the roads.” 

I start to poke around for my armor. We made quite a mess. A boot here, arm band there.

“Where did my drawers go?”

“Oh,” he pulls them from his pack and hands them over, “i mended them, as promised.”

“I was only joking you know,” I smile, “when did you find time to do that?”

“After you fell asleep, I fixed my armor too. Did you know you talk in your sleep?” 

“Really? What did i say?”

“I think it was an alchemy recipe,” he laughs, “you were whispering about snowberries.” 

“Speaking of sleeping habits, you snore like a little kitten! I never noticed before” i giggle.

“Aye, Farkas never lets me live that down. Calls me adorable.”

“You  _ are _ adorable!” I lean against him and he wraps an arm around me. 

“You weren't saying that last night!” I blush, heart quickening at the memory.

“Oh, so now you're shy hmm?” He grins down at me, “better hope that hickey fades before we reach our destination.”

“You didn't!” He digs through his bag and pulls out a small mirror, handing it to me with a smug grin. My reflection confirms it.

“You sneaky bastard! I'll get you back for that, just you wait!” My warpaint is smeared beyond recognition, hair wild. 

“Perhaps we’d better clean up before leaving,” I say, examining my smudged reflection. I hand the mirror back to him so he can examine his own state of disarray. I rise, stretching stiffly, and fetch the water pail. It froze during the night and condensation gathers where it starts to thaw. 

“What did you do to my hair?” 

“I think it looks nice that way,” i tuck a wayward lock behind his ear, “ _ kitten _ .”

He blushes and i grin.

“Call me what you will, but I beg you not to say that in front of my brother.”

“I would never think to subject you to such humiliation, my dear.” I give him a kiss on the cheek, “though if you keep giving me hickeys before im supposed to meet my Grann, i just might consider it.” 

“That will fade in a week, right?” He asks quickly, turning pale. I laugh, clearly Thrynn has told him some stories. 

“I thought you were the expert.”

“If we stop in town ill buy you a scarf?”

“No, i think i'd rather watch you squirm,” i give him a devious smile.

“You’ll be the death of me, woman.” 

By now the water has melted. I place my hands in it and heat it with my magic until it’s a nice temperature. Vilkas hands me a cloth and soap from his bag. 

“Thanks.” I set to work scrubbing my face, stepping aside so he can use the water. We wash quickly. I grab my comb and attempt to untangle my hair. Vilkas pulls a jar of warpaint from his bag and carefully tries to prop the tiny mirror up with one hand.

“Here, let me,” I say, carefully taking the charcoal mix from his hands and sweeping it under his eyes.

“Don't know why you use a mirror for this stuff, I never do.” I mutter. 

“I can tell, your paint is always crooked.” He smiles and gently dips a finger in the goop, sweeping it across my nose and under my eyes with a practiced ease. 

“How rude, sir!” I say playfully as he carefully applies my usual pattern. 

“It doesn't have to be pretty, so long as it keeps the snow’s glare from my eyes.”

“Ah, but proper warpaint strikes fear into the hearts of your enemies, my love.”

“Nonsense! Yours looks like a kitten who fell in a tub of paint.” 

“That's because you did it!” He laughs.

“We’ll see what my gran thinks of your endless teasing! Why i bet she’ll kick you out!”

“Better than tying me to a tree for the wolves!”

“She only did that once and she made Thrynn and I keep the predators away from the boy all night!”

“Was this the same boy whose ankle you broke?”

“No, same cousin though. Biyrith is very pretty, takes a lot of suitors. You might meet her, she helps gran run the mill now that im gone.”

“For someone that doesn't come from a line of warriors, you seem to have an incredibly violent family.” I laugh.

“Consider yourself fortunate that Biyrith won't try to pursue you. You're just her type too, tall, handsome, bit of an ass.”

“Hey!” He gives my shoulder a friendly push.

“What was it you said when we first sparred?” I ask, putting on a scowl and imitating his voice, “ ‘next time won't be so easy, whelp!’ You limped for a month!”

“I did not!”

“Care to place a wager? Lets ask Aela when we get back!”

“I had a  _ slight _ limp!”

“Ha! I knew it! You-“ he kisses me.

“You can't distract me!” I laugh.

“Is that a challenge?” He kisses me again, slyly running a hand under my shirt.

“Keep that up and we’ll never make it out of here.”

“Would that be so bad?” 

“It wouldn't, if my Gran wasn't expecting us. Drat! I never shouldn't have written that letter.” 

“Hindsight, my love.” He smiles, and pulls away. We dress quickly; the morning is already half gone. 


	17. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go!

“We’ll wait here till sundown.” I shrug off my pack and crouch in the dark heather. We’ve traveled far in the past week, but are still behind schedule. Gran expected us two days since. 

“Yes  _ ma’am _ ” vilkas says dropping to the ground beside me. He carefully pulls a book from his pack. 

“Don't tease, if it weren't for your distractions we wouldn't be late.”

“My distractions?” 

“Aye, I can't be expected to act a lady when you look at me like that!” I say, pushing his face away from mine with a quiet giggle. 

“Doing some hunting?” He asks, gesturing to my bow with his bookmark. 

“It's only polite that i bring dinner.”

“Care for some help?” He goes to put away his book but I stop him.

“Nonsense, enjoy your book. You havent had much time for reading of the late.” He grins and scoots closer.

“All those distractions hmm?” He grabs my waist and topples me onto his lap. I drop my bow.

“Scoundrel!” I laugh a little too loud.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” I jump at the sound of Biyrith’s voice, cursing myself for not keeping my guard up. 

“Hello cousin.” I extract myself from Vilkas’ lap with as much dignity as I can muster. He stands too, edging toward the shadows.

“Hello Madaloa, hello  _ stranger _ .” She gives Vilkas her signature once over, biting her lip.

“Finally enjoying life? I never thought I'd live to see the day.” She turns back to me with a wicked glint in her eye. 

“Biyrith this is-“

“Vilkas, yes, so your letter said. Gran’s been worried sick, you're never late, but i can see what took you so long. Props to you, cous.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Gran sent me looking for you. I don't know why you bother hiding your arrival, there's no one around for miles.”

“You know why. Now if you would stop gawking at my companion,” i shoot her a sharp look, “I could give you a proper introduction!” 

“Sorry,” at least she has the decency to blush, “it's good to meet you Vilkas, im Madaloa’s favorite cousin-“

“Smartass, you'd rank third at best!” 

“-Biyrith” 

Vilkas looks a little stunned, so i take his hand.

“Honored to meet you, Biyrith.”

“ _ Honored _ he says, what a gentleman! How'd  _ you  _ nab him?” She teases pulling me in for a hug.

“You smell terrible! When did you last wash your hair?”

“And you smell like you rolled in a flower garden! But I'd wager the real question is who you rolled with!” 

“Ahh, you wound me cousin! Ive learned my lesson and found a gentleman! The guard-“ i let out an exasperated groan “-Brindwold”

“That bastard? Really Biyr you could do so much better if you'd just-“

“Stop chasing warriors,” she mocks my voice, “You're one to talk!”

“She’s got you there, love” Vilkas says quietly.

“ _ Love _ , oh my Madaloa, what a rare one you’ve found.” 

“Perilous mistake to take my cousin's side, _ kitten _ .” He turns red, stifling a laugh.

“Kitten? Gods Loa, that’s disgustingly sweet, even for you. Did you know she writes poetry?”

“No-“

“Oh yes she does! About flowers!”

“I do not-“

“And the sea!”

“I never knew! You simply must show them to me,  _ petals _ .” My face flushes.

“Don't even think of it you bastard!” 

“I know that look,” Biyrith cuts in, “we’d better get to Grans before i have to help her hide your body.” 

Vilkas chuckles, putting an arm around my shoulders. I lean against him grudgingly.

“You know I have to wait for dark. What if-“

“What if someone follows me! What if someone realizes that little Loa from the woods is the mighty dragonborn Madaloa with all her enemies!” She mocks my voice, I hate to admit that she’s mastered the impression.

“Get real cous, you've set so many booby traps and locks around our house that it’s a miracle Thrynn can still find his way through!” 

“Ah but you forget, your brother’s an idiot, my enemies are not!” She sighs.

“I cant argue there. Ill see you tonight, and Madaloa?””

“Yeah?”

“You'd better cover up that hickey!” 

“Love?”

“Yes?” I look up from skinning a rabbit. The afternoon sun hangs gold from the branches.

“What will we tell the others when we return to Whiterun?”

“What do you want to tell them?” I wrap the meat in cloth and move to rinse my hands in a nearby stream. Vilkas sets aside his book.

“I'm not sure. I don't know what they'll make of it.”

“We can only keep it hidden for so long,” I reason, flicking the cold water from my fingers, “but if you'd rather keep it secret…”

“We can work out a way to tell them.”

“Probably one invloving copious amounts of liquor.” I give him a mischievous grin. He laughs.

“We’ll call that plan B.”

“How about we host a dramatic reveal? I can break down crying, profess my love for you?” He laughs harder. 

“You're a terrible liar, that would never work.” He says.

“Ok, well until we come up with something…”

“We keep it to ourselves.” I settle in beside him, listening to the breeze sway the trees above us.

“Are you nervous to meet my Gran?”

“A little, Thyrnn told me a thing or two.”

“Don't be, she's going to love you. She only hurts people who hurt her family.” 

“Sounds familiar.” He grins at me.

  
  


Night moves in with a coolness in the air. I pull my cloak close and take Vilkas’ hand. 

“This way,” I whisper, leading him down the path home, eyes scanning the underbrush. 

I pause at the top of the hill, inhaling deeply. Light from the house below dances off the stream like torchbugs in a jar. The sawmill sits silent, as though it sleeps. 

“I used to swim in, but Gran hated how I came home dripping.” I lean up to whisper in Vilkas’ ear. 

We make our way slowly, picking a path through the flowers. I make sure to avoid the snares and traps, pointing them out to Vilkas so he doesn’t misstep. I relax when we reach level ground. Gran wont let me rig anything in the yard. On the porch I give a tentative knock, shooting Vilkas a small grin. 

“Loa? Divine’s sake girl, come in!” Gran hollars from inside. I wince, so much for stealth.

I open the door and breathe in the smells of home. Fresh bread and cut wood, just as i remember. Gran gives me a stern look from the hearth. I take off my boots quickly, and Vilkas follows suit.

“Granny,” I sigh with a grin, darting forward to hug her. 

“My little Loa,” she hugs me back, “you reek of travel!” 

I laugh. 

“And who is this gentleman in my doorway? Speak son! I don't bite.”

“Don't lie Gran,” i tease. Vilkas gives us a hesitant smile. I walk over and take his hand, leading him further into the house.

“Granny, i'd like you to meet Vilkas.”

“Honored to meet you ma’am.” He extends a hand. She smacks it with her spoon.

“Don't call me ma’am! I'm not nearly so old as i look”

“So-sorry,” vilkas’ face flushes.

“Gran you're scaring my love!” 

“It's my job!” She whips around to face us and gives Vilkas a look, “Well boy, my little Loa calls you her love. Is this true?”

“Yes ma’a-“ he cuts himself off, and clears his throat, “yes.”

“You can call me Granny, if it suits you,” she turns back to her stew, “And old coot if it doesn’t.” I squeeze his hand. Poor dear, he looks frightened.

“Is Biyrith about?” I ask, hoping that changing the subject will dispel some of his fears.

“No, she’ll be off with that lad of hers. This month’s choice anyway.” Gran putters around, pulling cups and bowls from the shelves.

“Well, are you going to stand there gawking all night or take a chair?” I laugh, it’s good to be home. 

“I brought you a rabbit,” I say, pulling the meat from my bag.

“Ahh, thats just the thing. Toss it on the table and I'll add it to the stew.”

“Do you need any help, ma’a- uh i mean miss.”

“I told you before son, it’s granny or it’s old coot!” She admonishes, Vilkas looks at the floor, “and false politeness won’t impress me.”

“He’s always polite Gran, some of us weren't raised in a barn,'' I tease. She gives a sharp laugh.

“I raised you in a wolf's den not a barn, you ungrateful brat!” 

I take a seat, waving for Vilkas to do the same. He sits stiffly, eyes darting around like a rabbit caught in a snare. 

Gran continues to cook, tottling here and there. She has always hated to be idle. 

“So Gran, Vilkas loves to read.”

“A sensible man? I never thought I'd meet another. Gods know your cousins don't qualify. What do you like to read, son?”

“Bit of everything, history especially.”

“Ahh, a historian. Is this the same know it all from that warriors guild of yours Loa?”

“I never called him a know it all!”

“I got the picture just the same,” she looks at us over her shoulder, “you should've heard how she went on about you. ‘Oh gran, my fellow warrior told me the most interesting story today!’ You'd think she was talking about one of the great scholars.” 

“You wrote home about me?”

“Don't flatter yourself, she writes home about everything. Say, you aren't the pranky one are you?” She turns a sharp eye on him.

“No, that’s his brother,” I say quickly. Divines save Farkas if he ever has the misfortune of meeting Gran. 

“Good. It's far too late in the evening to kick someone's ass.” She says, turning back to her stew.

I cover my laugh with a well timed cough. Vilkas grins at me. 

After dinner, Gran sits us down by the hearth. I make us all tea, smiling when she reprimes me for using magic to heat the water.

“Alright girl, out with it.”

“What?” I ask, carefully tapping a scalding sip.

“You've never brought a man home. I assume you’re with child.” I choke on my tea. 

“I'm not!” I cough. Vilkas averts his eyes, red as the evening sun.

“Well good. At least I raised one sensible child!” She settles back in her chair, keen eyes searching our faces. “You always were a sentimental one. Are you asking for my blessing?”

“Gran!”

“What? You must admit that it’s highly unusual. You've never been a romantic woman. Are you trying to scare the lad off?”

“Gods Gran, of course not!” I say affronted, “though if i were, you'd be doing an excellent job of it.”

“Then tell me the story and i'll decide if i approve.”

“What story?” 

“I didn't raise you to be this dense. How'd you meet, how long have you been courting? Come now girl, i have to decide whether or not this boy is worthy of your hand.”

“Who said anything about marriage?!”

“Well, in your letter you said he was a good man! And an honorable man wouldn't bed you without the intention to wed.” My face reddens once more. This was a mistake.

“Gran we’re not-”

“Im old, Loa, not stupid! I helped raised Thyrnn or did you forget?” She has me there. If ever there was an honorable man, it was not my cousin.

“We’ve only been courting for a month!” 

“Finally, some answers!” She laughs, “only a month and you bring him to my door. If you were Byirth I wouldn’t blink, but my little Loa doesn’t play such games.” She taps the arm of her chair.

“Go on then, tell me the rest!” She snaps, suddenly impatient. I quickly give her an edited version of our history, starting at the night of the harvest festival, and ending with the night I introduced him to Thyrnn.

“That’s not the full story, Loa, and I know it. Why did you bring him round to meet the family? You’d only just begun courting.”

“I wanted him to know who he was dealing with before making any decisions.” I say quietly.

“And you, boy,” Vilkas jumps when she addresses him, “why did you go with her?”

“I’d follow Madaloa anywhere.” he answers gravely. She gives a barking laugh and settles down to sip her tea, deep in thought.

  
  


“Only a month and you’ve already lain together.” Vilkas shoots me a wide eyed look. Gran continues, unaware at our mortification. 

“That can only mean one of two things, you’ve loved him for far longer than you let on in your letters, or…” she shakes her head and smiles, “No, you never were one to let passion cloud your judgement, even as a babe. I suspect you’ve loved him for years”

“Gran I-”

“Quiet! I’m thinking.” She tilts her head to and fro like a crow examining a snare.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I approve.” 

“I wasn’t asking-”

“Humor an old woman, wouldn’t you?” I bite my tongue and give a small nod.

“When I wed your grandfather, I was hardly old enough to be considered a woman and he, a man. But, despite our ages we never stopped loving each other. Do you know why?” she doesn’t wait for me to answer, “Because our love was built on a good foundation.”

“Now, I know there’s more to your story, and I’ll let you keep your secrets for now, but-”

“Gran-” 

“Stop interrupting! Does she ever let you get a word in edgewise?” she turns to Vilkas, smiling at his look of terror.

“Since this boy wasn’t scared off by Thyrnn, and you cared enough for him to bring him to me, I see a good foundation.” She sips her tea. 

“Well? You couldn’t stop talking a second ago. Were you expecting something else?”

“I… I thought you’d just…” I stumble over my words, “I thought you’d like to meet him. Have tea and such, not go into a full lecture and analyze our relationship.”

I laugh suddenly at my own foolishness. How could I have expected any different from Gran.

“What? You think that because I don’t give Byir’s boys a spare thought that you could get away with such a luxury? Nonsense, Loa! You haven’t your cousin’s fickle heart. You care for this boy.” She laughs. “I analyze because  _ I _ care. And if you hurt her, boy,” she turns on Vilkas, “I’ll mount your head over this fireplace. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.” He says quickly, swallowing hard. I take his hand, and to my credit I am only slightly amused.

“Come now, why do you look so frightened? I’ve only threatened you once so far! That's better than most men who cross this threshold can say. I’m being perfectly civil.”

“Sorry.” he mumbles and she laughs heartily.

“I’m teasing you, boy!” She turns to me, “By the nine, does he have any sense of humor? Perhaps I gave my approval too hastily.”

“He has a wonderful sense of humor, you’ve just scared it out of him!” I smile.

“I’m hardly intimidating!” she lies blatantly, “Well then Loa, if your boy’s too shy to speak, then you’ll have to prove his good nature. Give me a story.” she demands. 

“Well,” I begin, searching my memory for something I haven’t already written home about, “he is a very sly man. Why, I was thinking back just the other day, and realized that it wasn’t Aela who put spider eggs in Farkas’ hair brush, but Vilkas!”

“You can’t prove that!” he interrupts, a hesitant smile beginning to form at the corners of his mouth.

“I can, and do you know how I figured it out? You and I had cleared a drauger crypt earlier the same week that had a frost spider nest! I can’t believe it took me so long to put two and two together! Why, Aela nearly killed Farkas when he got his revenge! Turns out we all had the wrong person!”

“Ahh, I remember this story! Didn’t he put glue in her helmet?”

“He did indeed! And all the while no one suspected Vilkas, but I’ve ferreted out the truth.” I say, with a clever little smile. Vilkas can't keep from grinning.

“But Aela had a motive, my dear, what motive did I have?”

“Plenty! He’s your brother after all, and you suffer from his tricks more than anyone! Why if it weren’t for his schemes we wouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Gran says, smiling. 


	18. Dropping Eaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gran is more clever than she lets on. Vilkas learns to bake.

“Loa! You're still here!” Biyr arrives late in the evening, face flushed and hair messy. 

“Of course she is! And where have you been?” Granny asks sternly. 

“Oh Gran, i'm in love!” Biyr gives a little twirl and giggles like a fool. Some things never change.

“Oh aye? That Brindwold fellow or someone else?”

“Gran!”

“Don't Gran me lass! I've heard rumors about them guards.” 

“It's different this time Gran! You'll see!”

“You know what you need? Madaloa ought to bring you to the city and find you a good man like her boy here!”

“Gran you know i can't do that!” 

“Brin is a good man!”

“Biyr, we both know that isn't true!”

“He’s changed Loa!” I grimace. That's never a good sign. 

The next morning I rise early to fix breakfast for Granny. Vilkas follows me downstairs.

“I never knew you could bake.” He says as I pull flour and yeast from the cupboard.

“What can i say, Gran loves sweet rolls,” I turn to find him examining a whisk with curiosity, “would you like me to teach you?”

“I'd love that.” I giggle when he hugs me from behind. 

“Sweet rolls are easy enough, you've just gotta make sure the water is warm enough to wake up the yeast, not cook it.” I instruct, heating a bowl of water with my magic and letting him feel the temperature. I dissolve some honey into it and toss in the yeast

“And this makes it rise?” I nod, measuring out the dry ingredients. Vilkas grabs a pinch of flour and sprinkles it in my hair.

“Is that how it is huh?” I laugh, grabbing a handful and stuffing it down his shirt. I reach for another but he pins my hands behind my back with a laugh. I kiss him. 

“And just what do you think you're doing to my kitchen?” We pull apart, covered in flour.

“Broom’s by the door, boy.” She says with a shake of her head. I can see that she's trying not to smile. 

I finish the rolls as Vilkas cleans up our mess. 

“And now we let them rise!” 

“You don't know how to bake?” Gran asks Vilkas, incredulous.

“No ma’am.”

“Well don't let this fool teach you! She burns them half the time!”

“You still eat them!” 

“Aye, out of pity!” She teases. 

“Go fetch some water for the bath, Loa, you both reek! And while you’re busy, i'll teach your man the proper way to bake!”

I send Vilkas a questioning look, he nods.

“Alright granny, just don't mix up the salt and sugar again!” I say, grabbing a water pail. 

When i was young, granny built a bathhouse closer to the stream so she wouldn't have to lug water so far. It’s not the fanciest thing, just a shed with a clay fireplace and a tub, but she is an excellent carpenter, so it is warmer than most fine houses, even in the winter. 

It takes many trips to fill the tub, but I get it done quickly and start a fire in the hearth for good measure. I walk back to the house, back aching.

I pause at the door, hearing muffled voices within. I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but curiosity gets the better of me. I sneak around back to listen at the window. Inside i hear Gran admonish Vilkas for kneading the bread wrong.

“It's not a punching bag! You'll take the air from it if you keep that up! Watch, fold and press. See?”

“That’s better! I'll have you baking for kings by the end of the week.” Vilkas chuckles and I smile. They’re getting on better than I could have hoped. 

“So, i take it little Loa introduced you to her assassins?”

I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. Vilkas is the only one I've told of the brotherhood, not even Thyrnn knows. If he told her… I push the thought aside and concentrate on listening.

“Don't look so shocked lad, I know more than I let on about her dealings.” 

“I don't know what you speak of.”

“Ha, you lie as well as she does. I'm an old woman, remember, I hear all the rumors. It's not hard to put two and two together, dragonborns are hard to come by.”

He is silent. 

“Come now, son, don't play at naivety. I need to know your thoughts on the matter.” Her voice takes on a steely edge. 

“Madaloa is a good woman,” he says quietly. 

“I raised her, you lunk, I know that. What I want to know is if she's safe.”

“She’s a fine warrior.”

“Finer warriors have fallen to lesser threats. These people, are they loyal to her?”

He falls silent once more.

“It’s admirable that you won't break her trust, but it won't do. You may love her, but I raised her.”

Silence still. I hear her sigh.

“Then promise me that you'll keep an eye on her. I know she can take care of herself, but a knife in the back isn't something one can beat.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, I swear it.” He says finally. His voice is a solemn vow.

“You remind me of her grandfather... Less handsome of course,” she teases, “but he was a good man too. I wish she could have known him.” Her voice is heavy. Gran rarely speaks of her late husband. I creep back out front, face burning with shame. 

“Ahh Loa there you are!” Biyr says, spotting me on the doorstep. She carries a basket full of flowers.

“Are these the right ones for a health potion? I want to make one for Brin!”

“These will do,” I say rummaging through the basket, “but you'll also need some wings from a monarch.”

“That’s revolting! Thank the gods it doesn't taste as bad as it sounds.” She laughs and I force a smile. She skips off to find the final ingredients. 

The house smells of rising bread. 

“Done already?” Gran asks when I enter.

“Aye, i didn't heat it, but that shouldn’t take me long.” I take off my boots and sit at the kitchen table.

“I have to apologize.” I admit quietly.

“Oh?” Gran turns a sharp eye on me.

“I overheard your conversation.” 

“I knew it!” She says, almost triumphantly, “You stepped on a twig outside the window.”

“How long have you known?”

“Years. You think I don't know my own granddaughter?” 

“I should have told you.” I hang my head, examining a nick in the wood. 

“Aye, you should have.” Gran steps over to me and puts her arms around me, holding my head against her stomach.

“But I understand why you didn't.” 

She pulls away and gives my hair a friendly ruffle. “Now, I am going to fetch some soap, you need to wash your hair.” She leaves the kitchen.

“I shouldn't have betrayed your trust like that.” I meet Vilkas’ eyes, he chuckles.

“Do you think ive never eavesdropped before? You have far too high an opinion of me, love.” He sits beside me and takes my hand.

“Thank you for keeping my secret.” I hug him close, heedless of the flour. I’m relieved that they took it so well, I would’ve thought gran would be fit to be tied. 

“So… have you ever eavesdropped on me?” I ask, pulling away to examine his face. He flushes.

“You have, haven't you?” I grin, “well, what did i say? When was it?”

“Farkas dared me…”

“Sly dog. When?” His face reddens further.

“When we were traveling together for that rescue mission a few months back. We could hear you singing as you washed in the stream and he said he'd give me ten septim to creep closer and find out what you were singing, and 100 septim if I stole your clothes.”

“You didn't!” I laugh, covering my mouth with a hand. He nods, ashamed.

“Well, I appreciate that you didn't steal my clothes,” i grin, “so that was why he asked what i was singing.” 

“Aye, he said he didn't trust me.” 

“I can’t believe my love is a pervert!” I laugh, “I should punish you for such ungentlemanly behavior!”

“I apologize most sincerely, my lady.” He grins.

“Nope, that's not good enough! I want revenge. You'd best be on your guard!” I tease.

“Well, if your honor demands it,” he shrugs with a twinkle of mischief in his eye, “just know that you’re free to join me if the listening bores you.” 

“Not in my tub!” Gran says, walking into the room. Vilkas turns red once again. 


	19. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biyrith is always getting Loa into trouble...

Something wakes me in the night. Perhaps a draft, or a far off wolf call. Regardless, I am awake with no hope of going back to sleep. I rise silently, so as not to wake Vilkas, and creep downstairs for a glass of water. 

In the kitchen, i find Biyr just coming home.

“Hey cous! How was  _ guard duty _ ?” 

She turns to face me, tearstained eyes meeting mine.

“Biyr? What happened?”

“He cheated on me! He said he loved me, Loa! He even wrote me a sonnet!” 

“Oh Biyr,” I wrap my arms around her. She cries softly on my shoulder.

“ i went to surprise him and caught him in the act. How could he do this Loa? I thought he loved me. I thought he was different.” She shakes like a poplar leaf. 

“I know sweetie, i know.” I quietly guide her up the stairs to her room. She sits on the edge of her cot with a tired little sob. 

“I'll make it right, get some rest.”

“Please don't kill him loa, i love him!” 

“You know i wouldn't do that to you, i'm just going to teach him some manners.” She smiles through the tears. 

“I guess you were right about him.”

I grit my teeth. That bastard must've done a number on her.

I creep down the hall, gathering some plain clothes and a masked hood. Back in my room, I quickly blackout my eyes with a bit of black warpaint.

“Thieving my warpaint now, love?”

“Sorry to wake you.”

“What’s wrong?” Vilkas scoots up on the cot and rubs his eyes.

“Nothing, just going to defend my cousin’s honor.”

“I see. Would you like help?”

“That's alright, I won't drag you into my less than honorable family affairs,” I force a tired chuckle.

“I don't mind.” 

“It's probably better that I go for stealth anyway. I'll be back in an hour or so.” I give him a quick kiss before fastening the mask over my face. 

“Kick his ass, petals!” Vilkas mumbles, diving back under the blankets. 

  
  


It's 10 miles to town. It would take me too long to walk, so I ride Shadowmere. I rarely ride, so when Astrid left him to me, I gave him to Gran. We reach town in under an hour, it's an easy journey for him with no wood to pull. I leave him on the outskirts, promising to give him extra grain back home. He gives me an annoyed snort and paws the ground with his hooves. 

I creep into town, sticking to the shadows. She said he was at the bar. Too many witnesses, I'll have to wait until he comes out and drag him into the alley. If he comes out…

I wait in the shadows, going over my options. I could go in bold and challenge him to a fight for her honor, but that runs the risk of someone recognizing my voice. Most people in my hometown think I'm a weapons dealer who runs between skyrim and Solstheim and only returns home for holidays. It's better they dont know I'm in town. 

I could try to lure him out, or intimidate him until he leaves the bar. Shame I'm not a more intimidating person. 

I grow impatient and decide to enter the bar. After all, it’s not hard to remain unseen in the back of a busy meadhall.

I slip in quietly and find a spot in the corner, edging around parties of drunken farmers and guardsmen. 

There he is. The bastard sits in the middle of a crowd, shamelessly flirting with any woman that passes. Can’t say I'm surprised. If Biyr had any taste in men I wouldn’t be here.

I edge a little closer, anger rising cold and dark in my chest when i hear him making fun of the “dumb logger girl” he tricked into his bed. 

My anger makes me lose focus. He spots me watching from across the room. I’m fortunate that he doesn’t recognize me. Thank the gods for masked hoods. 

I meet his eyes, attempting to scare him. Instead he gives me a once over that makes my skin crawl. A new idea forms at the back of my mind. I wink at him and then give a pointed glance to the door. Once I'm sure he's caught my drift, I leave the bar and hide in the shadows. 

It doesn't take him long to follow me outside.

“Hello miss?” He says. 

I grab him from behind, muffling his scream with my hand.

“Little birdie told me you like taking advantage of girls.”

“Why, you are interested.” The creep tries to grab at my chest, so I suffer him a hard blow to the ribs. 

“Does that answer your question?” I let him go, spinning him to face me. If i was fighting with Thyrnn, I would have broken his arm first, but Vilkas’ honorable ideals have started to rub off on me. 

“Seems your mother never taught you how to treat a lady, so i'll have to pay the lesson in forward.” I hit him with all my strength, landing a clean right hook to the chin. He stumbles back.

“Get lost  _ girl _ ” he spits, blood oozing from his split lip, “before you make me angry.” I laugh, cold and brittle. He attempts a hit, but I dodge, fists raised in a boxing stance.

“I’m afraid I can’t, honor demands payment.” I say, stepping into the torchlight without thinking. 

“Little Loa, is that you?” He squints into my face, “this will be about that wench cousin of yours then? We both know she's no lady.” 

Anger. Cold, and iron tasting as blood. I hit him again, a good strike to the chest. He lands a grazing blow on my ribs. I don't give him the satisfaction of a wince. 

“I thought that lunk of a brother fought Biyr’s battles for her. Where is he? This is a man’s fight,  _ little Loa _ ” he tries to rush me, but I sidestep at the last second, whipping around to aim a blow to his back.

“I see no men in this alleyway.” I spit out, coming in fast for a series of blows that make him stagger. For a guard, he’s a piss poor fighter. I land another sharp blow, this time to his temple, and grin. That’ll leave a bruise. My knuckles ache, but I hardly feel the pain. 

“What's the matter, did i hurt your ego?” I exchange another jab to his chest for a blow to the stomach. It takes my breath, but I still stand. 

“You bitch!” He coughs. I give him no respite, darting forward to punch him across the jaw. He staggers like a drunkard, falling to his knees. I kick him in the chest, hard, sending him to the ground. I grab him by the hair, yanking his head back to speak in his ear.

“Stay away from Biyrith.” I bite out, anger turning my voice red. 

“Ok” he gasps, fear clear in the whites of his eyes, “just leave me alone, you crazy bitch!”

I laugh bitterly.

“If I had less respect for myself, I would slit your throat. But instead, I'll grant you a favor,” I crouch beside him, '' I won't tell anyone that ‘little Loa who can't even hold a sword proper’ kicked your sorry ass. How does that sound?” 

He nods eagerly when I release his head. I think i may have broken his ribs. I dig through my pocket and pull out a handful of gold, which I toss on the ground beside him with disdain.

“For the healer.” 

  
  


An hour later I arrive home, the sun just barely beginning to rise. I fill Shadowmere's feed trough and put away his tack in silence, reflecting. I doubt the guard will tell anyone of the encounter, but it was foolish of me to let him recognize me. 

“Madaloa?” Granny peers in the tack room door.“Ah, there you are! I was worried sick!” 

She strides up to me, taking my hands in hers with a disappointing tsk.

“That warrior of yours told me not to worry. Can you believe that?!”

“I can handle myself in a fight, Gran” I say, only slightly embarrassed. 

“Too well, I'd imagine.” She takes my chin in her hand and turns my face this way and that, looking for bruises.

“He offered to go looking for you, but I wouldn't hear it. I said, no she got herself into this mess, let her rot in jail!” 

“Gran!”

“What? It's no less than you deserve, running off without telling me! You could’ve at least sent for Thyrnn or Kyrin. You shouldn't go it alone!”

“Gran-”

“Don't you Gran me! If you came home hurt then I would've had to kill the boy! And this old back is no good for digging graves anymore.” I smile, knowing that if she can joke, all if forgiven.

“How is Biyrith?”

“Lamenting, as usual! You ought to bring her to the city, find her a good spouse instead of these low life guards and bards she so loves to chase after!” 

“I can't do that Gran, Biyr is no warrior.”

“And who says she should be? If i had my way you foolish children would have been healers and poets! It's my husband's fault, Talos rest him, you all got your fire from  _ his _ side!”

“Gran, that's a lie and you know it!”

“Ahh, go chop a cord!” I laugh and she gives my face a gentle pat.

“Come now child, let's see the damage. Where’d the bastard hit you?” 

“Just the stomach, I'm fine gran, really.” She gives me a stern look that makes me hang my head out of habit. I pull up my shirt to let her examine the bruise.

“Now that’s a fine trophy for your foolishness! You'd best tell your warrior to go gentle.”

“Granny!” I say, scandalized. She laughs.

“Now, come inside and wash up, you reek of fighting!” She orders. Not waiting for me to follow, she returns down the winding path home. I hang up Shadow’s saddle and make my way down to the house. In the kitchen, Biyr greets me, puffy eyed and sniffling. 

“Madaloa please say you didn't kill him!” I push her aside while a little laugh.

“I didn't give him nearly so bad a beating as he deserved! Rest easy, cousin, he won't be bothering you.” 

Vilkas smiles at me from the table, I feel myself light up like a torchbug. 

“Madaloa!” Gran snaps, “quit smiling like a fool and take off your muddy shoes! I didn't raise you in a barn!” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Don't you ma’am me, you ungrateful child! And wash your face! You've got blood on it.” 

“Yes ma’am,” I laugh, and dodge when she hurls a spoon at me. 

Back at the table, Vilkas quietly examines my knuckles.

“You should’ve wrapped them first.” He mutters, gently taking a wet washcloth to the torn skin. I wince.

“You've been spending too much time with my Gran. I'm the bossy one and don't you forget it!” 

“Aye, but i've been a warrior for longer,” he looks up with a twinkle in his eye, “it's my duty to train the whelps.” 

“Oh aye? And who’s the welp that made you limp for a month?”

“Don't be crass, child!” Gran cuts in. I turn red.

“Not like that!” I sputter. Vilkas flushes and fixes his eyes on my knuckles with renewed interest. I change the subject.

“So Biyr, Gran said you had a new project in mind?” She smiles a little. 

“Aye, i want to harness the river!” She scampers over to the desk in the other room and pulls out some papers, laying them on the table with a hint of pride. Biyr has always had a knack for mechanics. 

“See, i think if i could angle the pipes right, it would draw water up to the wash house!”

“That’s genius!” I say, pouring over the papers, “It looks like the mechanisms I've seen in dwemer ruins!” In truth I have no idea what I'm looking at, but she seems cheered by the compliment.

“What I wouldn't give to see a dwemer ruin!” She smiles, quill in hand, “I just can't figure out how to keep the pipes from freezing in the winter.”

“Well, if you stay away from low life boys, I’ll bring you to see one!”

“If you loved me you would bring me regardless,” she teases. 

“You could be a great scholar if you'd stop chasing undeserving warriors!” I exclaim, trying to puzzle out her plans, “Have you thought of a rainwater catch? It would take less piping, less area to freeze?” 

“I have, but I’m not sure it rains enough,” she taps her chin, “Though, if I made a large enough collection tank, and fitted some gutter on the roof…” she trails off, quickly sketching something on a scrap of paper. 

“And of course inside the wash house I can coil the pipes around the hearth so it heats the water… say could you enchant the metal to be frost resistant?”

“Aye, do you think that would work?”

“I’m not sure,course no way to tell until winter, but it couldn’t hurt.” 

“Maybe Madaloa could try to freeze them after enchanting?” Vilkas suggests, looking over the plans with interest.

Several hours later, I find myself elbows deep in mud, muscles aching from lugging around pipes. 

“Loa, I think I’ve got it!” Biyr hollars from the roof of the washhouse. I’ve enchanted the metal inside and out, but the water still freezes. 

“Can you do that fire spell where it stays on the ground?” she asks excitedly. Vilkas and I share a look.

“A rune?”

“Yes, and soul gems, you have plenty right?”

“Aye.” I cast a fire rune on the ground for her inspection. 

“What if we put soul gems at these points?” She asks, drafting a quick sketch of the rune’s pattern and marking off the points where the writing meets the outer circle.

“I don’t know.”

“What kind of arch mage are you anyway?” she laughs, “I think it could work, I read in that book you brought home-”

“You’ve been going through my stuff again haven’t you?” 

“That soul gems power enchantments, so if we applied that here-”

“What if it explodes?” I ask, exasperatedly.

“That would be epic!” 

“If we burn down Gran’s bathhouse she’ll never forgive us!”

“Calm down, I’m putting it in the catch basin.” 

“Biyr…”

“Let’s just try it in this bucket!” she throws down a wooden pail and climbs down after it. I set off the forgotten rune with a quick blast of ice so she doesn’t step in it.

  
  


Hours later we’ve finally gotten it to work. We used soul gem fragments since whole ones proved too powerful. Gran watches us from the porch in amusement. 

“There!” Biyr says with a grin, “Now that I have that figured out, I’ll finish putting up the pipes and build a catch basin! Next time you visit you can set up the spell and we won’t have to haul water ever again!”

Gran laughs, “In the meantime you’d all better head down to the stream and wash up. I won’t have your muddy shoes mucking up my house, and I'd suppose you're all too tired to lug water.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! I hope you enjoyed the latest tale of Madaloa's crazy family.


	20. Finalizing Travel Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two flirts are going to give this old author gray hairs.
> 
> Warning: mild adult content, mentions of sex

We leave for home at the end of the week, planning to stop in a few cities on the way so as to throw off any speculation. At the Arcanium ,I buy the next book in a series Vilkas had been reading. 

“Here's an idea,” Vilkas says as we eat lunch in my quarters, “we tell them that I lost a bet and had to find a spellbook you were after.”

“Would it really take so long to track down one book?”

“You've spent more time on less worthy endeavors.” He shoots me a grin.

“It will have to be quite the spell for that to work, something they haven't seen me do before. I'll ask around and try to find something worthy of a months long journey.” 

“I trust you have some loot stashed away, we could say we looked in a crypt. It always takes you ages to clear a crypt.”

“It does not!”

“It does too! You check every draugr for coin!”

“Dead men have no need of gold!” 

“Aye, and what will three septim fetch?” He teases.

“Every little bit counts! Why, if i weren't so stingy, how could i afford things like this?” I pull out my glass bow, a fine piece if anyone ever saw one. Took me ages to learn to smith it proper, and weeks to decide on the enchantments.

“You have me there love,” he says around a mouthful of bread. I set aside my empty plate and rise, digging through my wardrobes for some enchanted loot to prove our story.

“Care for an enchanted dagger?” I ask, tossing one haphazardly behind my shoulder. He chuckles.

“I'm not the dagger type.”

“I'm afraid i don't have a greatsword; they're much too slow for my taste.”

“You've spent too much time listening to Athis.” 

“I've wasted too much time doing many things, but listening to a friend is not one of them.” 

“You get poetic when you're tired, petals,” he teases, coming up behind me to nuzzle my neck with his nose. 

“Will i ever live that down, kitten?” He laughs and picks me up by the waist. I giggle. 

“Just what do you think you're doing?”

“Teaching you the benefits of carrying a heavy weapon.” He laughs, throwing me over his shoulder. 

“Are you calling me a heavy weapon?” 

“You’re certainly deadly, love, but i prefer you to a sword anyday.” He tosses me on the bed and grins down at me. 

“Was this your aim? Divines, I've created an addict haven't i?” I tease pulling him down for a kiss. He pulls away, much to my disappointment.

“I've just realized something?”

“What's that?” I ask, fiddling with a strap on his armor.

“We've never lain together on a real bed.” 

“I suppose we haven’t,” I laugh. Out of respect to my Gran we refrained from making love under her roof, and life on the road doesn't often provide mattresses. He kneels before me and twirls a lock of my hair around his finger, mesmerized.

“I suppose it’s not really our style,” he says, “but for the sake of learning…” 

I blush at his heated gaze and he chuckles.

“Love, i've had you in nearly every way i could imagine and yet you still blush like a maiden when i mention it.”

“Had me? Vilkas, I'm not breakfast!” I snort.

“Aye but you could be,” he wiggles his eyebrows and I cackle like a raven. My laughter appears to be infectious. Soon were both gasping for air, stomachs aching. 

“I don't know why you found that so amusing.” He says with a goofy grin. 

“Perhaps it was the wine?”

“You haven't had any.” I gasp as though I'm shocked.

“I must remedy that mistake.” He giggles and I grin at the sound. He sounds so carefree; it’s not a mask he wears often. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, friends. The next chapter brings us back to the Companions! Farkas has some schemes in the works that are vaguely worrying, as usual...


	21. Hide the Mead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road brings Madaloa and Vilkas back to Jorrvaskr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of throw up and heavy drinking... also Farkas is a pranky little shit...

Our friends seem to buy into our deception. A few uneventful weeks pass. If anyone notices that Vilkas and I are spending more time together, they don’t mention it. Farkas has been rather smug though.

Ria and I get back to Jorrvaskr late in the evening from a contract in Riverwood. Exterminating bears isn’t my favorite job, but it brings the money in. 

“Back so soon?” Njada asks. We had only been gone for a day and a night. 

“Riverwood’s not far, and besides Ria is an expert bear slayer at this point!” She grins at the compliment. 

“Where are the twins?” I ask, looking around the mead hall. 

“Out killing a dragon.”

“Lucky bastards!” I say, Njada and Ria laugh, “I bet they sent us after that bear so they could have the good assignment.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Aela says, leaving the table to join our conversation. 

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with those two fools, harbinger, did you lose a bet?” She asks. 

“Not yet, but don’t give Farkas any ideas!” 

After dinner, I return to my quarters to read. The rest of the companions decided to have an impromptu party, as Tilma had just finished a fresh batch of mead. The noise of their entertainment echoes through the empty halls below in a homey sort of way. 

A sudden commotion upstairs pulls me out of my book. Raucous laughter, and what sounds like drunken hollaring. I shake my head with a small grin and make my way to the stairs, wondering who got themselves into trouble this time. 

Before i get a chance to open the door to the hall, the source of the ruckus opens it for me.

“There you are!” Vilkas exclaims with a stupid grin that i cant help but return. He smells like he’s bathed in liquor. He picks me up by the waist and trys to spin us around, stumbling over his own feet. Fortunately he sets me down before we both fall.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“A loooootttt of mead!” He giggles. 

“I take it the dragon hunt went well.” 

“Aye, Farkas was so excited that he bought the drinks!” He leans in for a kiss but I pull away. His breath is strong enough to make me dizzy. Just how much did he drink?

“Farkas bought the drinks? That's highly unusual.” He tries to kiss me again and succeeds in a clumsy sort of way. 

“Vilkas, someone will see us!” I scold, pulling away.

“Dont care, i want you.” He murmurs, pushing me against the wall with enough force to knock the wind from my lungs. His lips swallow my gasp for air. He kisses me with a hunger he’s never shown before. It takes a lot of mental fortitude to push him away.

“Vilkas i cant, you’re too drunk!”

“I thought you said you had no honor,” he slurs, lips finding my neck to leave bruising kisses and bites, “so prove it!”

I push him back again,but this time with force. He stumbles.

“If our roles were reversed you can't tell me that you would have taken advantage.” 

“Its not-“ he hiccups, “advantage! I want youuuu.” 

“You can hardly stand!”

“Nononooonono look!” He tries to stand up straight but tumbles back, landing on the floor with a loud thump. He laughs loudly. 

“By the nine,” i rub my temple, “i thought liquor was supposed to have the opposite effect on men.”

“Nooooooo, where'd you hear lies?!”

“My gran. Now, are you alright to stay here for a bit?” He nods, looking up at me from the floor with a pout. 

I run up the stairs. Farkas has some explaining to do. 

My entrance is marked with a cacophony of whistles and cheers. I wince, eyes darting around the mead hall. 

“There's the lovebird now! How's it going  _ petals. _ ”  Torvar cheers. 

“Evidently the cats out of the bag?” I say, face red. Aela gives me a scathing look. Talos preserve me.

“Im sorry-“ 

“Gods damn it Madaloa! Why did you say something sooner?” 

“Sorry!” I squeak again. 

“She’s not mad at you shield sister!” Farkas calls out from across the hall with a grin. She turns a furious eye on him. 

“I wasn't aware that you would cheat!” She snaps and Farkas pales. 

“What is going on here?” I ask, voice hardening.

“We had a bet on.” Ria informs with a grin, evidently she’s one of the victors. I turn on Farkas.

“You told them? After your own brother asked for your confidence-"

“No, they guessed,” he says quickly, eyes darting between me and Aela. I think he might try to run. 

“What was this bet over?” The hall goes quiet. 

“No, no, tell me,” i say, voice gone quiet and deadly, “what were you betting on?”

“Who would admit that you were courting first.” Aela says with a scowl.

“So, let me get this straight. You all knew,” i sweep my hand around the hall, “and instead of telling us, you decided to get your shield brother black out drunk to win a bet?” 

Farkas swallows hard.

“That was my idea, harbinger, it wasn't their fault.” He has the good sense to look ashamed. 

“And how much was the prize?” Farkas looks down. 

Ria answers for him.

“We all put in a hundred septim, except Vignar, he didnt want to bet. Aela, Njada, and Athis thought you would…” she trails off. 

“Sorry.” Farkas stutters. I sigh deeply and rub my temple.

“You know what?” I say, a smile forming, “i'm not angry with any of you.” 

“Really?” Aela says, incredulous. She’s still scowling. 

“Noooo,” I say with only a hint of sarcasm, “we should have told you sooner! And besides... you three,” i send pointed looks to Ria, Farkas, and Torvar, “are going to share the winnings with us.”

“But-" Torvar starts. 

“It’s only fair, afterall we were the but of your jokes.” They share a look. I glare at them from the top of the stairwell. 

“Deal.” Farkas says finally. 

“I wasn't bargaining,” i say, turning to go, “if you need me, i'll be downstairs making sure Vilkas doesn't drown in his own sick.” 

“Harbinger?!” Torvar hollars, and I pause at the door.

“What?”

“Is he a good lay?” The companions laugh.

“I won't dignify that question with an answer!” I slam the door behind me, blushing at the laughter above. Damn Torvar. 

“Loa?” Vilkas is sitting in the middle of the floor, warpaint smeared with tears.

“Are you mad, love? I'm sorry I told everyone,” he says with a watery voice.

“No, i'm not angry,” i help him to his feet, “Let's get you to bed.” He grins down at me.

“I knew you couldnt-“ he hiccups “-resist my chharmms”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. It is a struggle to get him down the hall, but I finally manage to tip him into his bed. I tuck the blankets around him, not bothering to remove his armor. 

“I love you.” He says sleepily. I smile down at him and tuck a stray lock of his hair behind his ear.

“You're a drunken fool.”

“Im your drunken fool!” He giggles and i can't help but chuckle. 

“Will you be alright for a minute? I'm going to fetch some healing potions.” He nods. I grab a bowl from his bedside dresser.

“Here, in case you need to throw up.”

“I don't need to-" he turns green and I grimace. Blood I can handle, but I've never been good around vomit, even after years of being a healer. 

I hurry to my room and back, carrying my apothecary satchel and a bucket. 

“I misssshed you!” I wrinkle my nose at the sharp scent of puke. Digging through my bag, I pull out a mint leaf.

“Here, it will help with the taste,” I say, placing it in his mouth. He chews happily, eyes following me as I set up my potions. 

“Did I mention I love ya?”

“You did!” I say brightly, handing him a health potion.

“Drink this if you can keep it down, it will help your body get rid of the alcohol faster.” 

He takes a sip and makes a face.

“It tastes funny!”

“I made it stronger than usual, figured you'd need it. Tomorrow will not be your day, my dear.” He giggles again.

“I like when you say that”

“My dear?” I ask, and he smiles happily. 

I stay after he drifts off, watching his chest rise and fall. He snores louder when he’s drunk. 

“How's he doing?” Farkas stands at the doorway, looking sheepish.

“He’ll be just fine, though i don't envy him the headache he’ll have tomorrow.” 

“Ahh.” He scuffs his boot against the floorboards.

I move to grab a washcloth and basin of water. I heat it with my hands and dip the towel, carefully wiping away vilkas’ spent warpaint. He murmurs in his sleep. 

“I'm not still mad, you know.” I say, sensing Farkas watching me. 

“Oh good!” He grins. 

“How went the hunt?” I ask, wringing out the cloth.

“It was epic! Vilkas fought well.”

“That's grand. I'm sure you fought well too.” He smiles, evidently relieved. 

“I shouldnt have got him so drunk, poor little guy.”

“He’s not that little!” Farkas raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and has to duck when i throw the washcloth at him.

“Not like that! Gods where did you two learn your manners?”

“Don't say that so loud! Tilma will have our heads.” I laugh.

Farkas pulls a chair in from the hallway and sits.

“I suppose everyone looks big to you though, halfling.” He laughs at the murderous look I send him. 

“I'll have you know that I am of average height. You all are just freakishly tall!”

We sit in comfortable silence for a while. I clean up a bit, placing the bowl and bucket outside the door with a wrinkled nose. I'll take care of it later. For now, I should keep an eye on Vilkas. 

“He’s a good man. Treat him well.” Farkas says quietly, watching his brother sleep.

“I swear to you that I'll do my best by him.” I say solemnly. 

“You're creepy when you're serious.” He teases and I grin.

“Creepier than when I’m angry?”

“No, you are terrifying when you're angry.” 

“Why thank you!” I say. He laughs. 

Vilkas turns on his back in his sleep. I gently put him back on his side. 

“Why do you do that?”

“It keeps them from choking if they puke in their sleep. I used to be a healer.” I explain, sitting back down. 

“Really? Well it takes all kinds. Vilkas used to be a poet.” 

“He didn't?!” I stifle my laughter so as not to wake him.

“He did!” Farkas grins. 

“I wish i could have known him before all this.” I say, looking at his sleeping face. 

“He was a strange child, that's for sure.”

“Family trait, I'd imagine.” I tease, but Farkas nods seriously. 

“You should've seen him when he was trying to pick a warpaint design. Went around with all sorts of crazy patterns for months!” 

“Didn't we all,” I chuckle, “still, what I wouldn't give to see that. I bet he started off with the fanciful ones and got sick of reapplying the design.” 

“He did.” We share a smile. 

“If you want to see what he looked like,” Farkas says, looking around the room awkwardly, “i have some old sketches.”

“You draw?”

“Yes, but don't get your hopes up, i'm no great artist.”

“I'd love to see them!” 

Farkas gets up slowly and crosses the hall, coming back with a bundle of papers, some new and some yellow with age. I look at the top page. 

“They’re incredible!” I say, “how'd you capture his scowl so well?”

He laughs quietly.

“I've had a good reference; it’s usually directed at me.” I grin. 

There’s a few of Vilkas as a boy, less masterfully rendered than the newer ones, but still a good likeness. I squint down at one, taking in the facepaint pattern.

“Is that a flower?” I ask, and Farkas laughs.

“It is. He thought drawing deathbell on his face would look menacing.”  I grin and flip through some more sketches. 

There's a few action scenes, portraying the companions as they train. Aela’s serious frown as she pulls back the arrow. Ria mid swing and Njada with her shield raised. Many portraits of fistfights and brawls. 

And there, in the center of the pile, is Kodlak. He captured that fatherly look so well that the image almost seems to breathe, even though its subject never would again. I wipe away a tear discreetly. 

He’s drawn all of us. There are even some of people in town, going about their days. An older one portrays a werewolf mid transformation, and my skin crawls at the memory.

I turn to the last one, careful not to smudge any of the papers, and pause.

He’s drawn Vilkas and I, joking together. It’s an older piece. A quick, unfinished sketch, in the style of the action shots. There's something in our eyes, a shine that I don't know how he captured.

“They’re incredible…” i say again, fingers hovering over the line work. 

“Thank you, sister.”

“You've known longer than us, it seems.” I say.

“It wasn't hard to tell, you're both open books.” He says in his gruff voice, taking back the pile of pages and flipping through them almost carelessly.

“Don't discredit yourself, shield-brother.”

He hands me a page, one of the training scenes, and points to something in the background. I squint down at it.

“This was soon after you joined. The first time I noticed my brother watching the 'new whelp'.” He mocks his brother's voice. Some may think that Farkas is dumb, but he has always had the good sense to not piss off newcomers. 

I take in the scene. The portrait is focused on a fist fight between Torvar and Athis, but on the far left side of the page, I can see myself joking with Ria. Her nose is crinkled up just the way it does when she laughs. It’s amazing that he can capture it in so few lines.

On the other side of the page, where Farkas had pointed, Vilkas watches us with a strange look of wonder. I stare at it for a long time.

“He’s loved you for ages, the love struck fool. I couldn't get him to talk to you, took a lot of lost bets.” 

“You'd have made a fine matchmaker.”

“Doesnt pay as well as the gambling.” He says with a shrug and I laugh. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Friends! Who knew that Farkas was an artist, and a talented one at that?! I certainly didn't, in fact it took Madaloa ages to convince me. But here we are... I hope all is well with you all. 
> 
> Stay tuned, the next chapter is a fun one. I won't spoil it, but our little Loa gets to knock the living daylights out of someone... I'm so proud of my murder child! 
> 
> Toodles!


	22. The Recruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short little thing that I wrote a while ago. Contains a bit of violence and sexism...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for letting my murder child beat up sexists. What can I say, it's a guilty pleasure to see assholes get their comeuppance, and our little Loa loves to brawl...

It takes a few days for Vilkas to fully recover from the wine. I was worried about how he'd react to the situation, but he seemed to handle it well. Still, I decided to keep an eye on him around Farkas. Vilkas is a man who bides his time and doesn't often let go of a grudge. I almost wish he’d punch him and get it over with. But the score will settle itself in time. 

Unfortunately, i can't shake the new nickname. I never minded when Vilkas called me petals, but now the entire guild has adopted the term. There’s something about Torvar drunkenly hollering “petals! Hand me the mead!” that makes me want to kick his ass. So far I've refrained, but my patience can only endure so long. 

In other news, I still haven't told Vilkas that I know that he used to write poetry… I'm saving that knowledge for a later date.

It’s not often I get a morning off the road. The day finds me having tea with Vilkas in the harbinger’s quarters. Since it is a fine, warm morning, I’ve elected to wear a dress rather than my armor, much to everyone's surprise. I have nowhere to go, no point in discomfort. We were discussing our latest reads when a soft knock came at the door.

“Come in” i say, slightly taken back, I've never known a companion to knock. Then again, given the fact that our relationship has been made common knowledge, perhaps they don't want to interrupt Vilkas and I at an inopportune moment.

“Sorry Harbinger, but we have a boy here who wishes to join,” Ria says, uncharacteristically formal, “i know Aela usually handles it but…”

“She’s hunting. Well just the same, any member of the circle will do for their test. Send them in.” 

She opens the door, and a young man steps into the room. I look him over. Strong to be sure, but there’s something in his air that makes me pause. 

“Harbinger,” he inclines his head at Vilkas. We share a look.

“You have the wrong warrior, son.” he says sternly, looking back at the boy. The man looks startled.

“Oh? A woman harbinger? Perhaps this is not the warriors guild I thought it was.” I raise a brow.

“If you wish to join, you must first spar with one of the Circle.” Vilkas shoots me a questioning look.

“Point me in the direction of the man I must best, I haven’t got all day.” Arrogant little shit, I hide a grin. This will be fun.

“You will be fighting me. ” I say shortly. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, my love?” Vilkas questions.

“My thought exactly, sir, she should leave the fighting to the men.” I see Vilkas turn red with anger. He sets his jaw and says with an evil glint in his eye-

“I will show him to the arena.” He shoos the boy out of our room and turns back to me with a concerned look in his eye.

“Don’t worry love, I won’t kill him,” I give him a reassuring pat on the check and quickly begin to change into my armor. He relaxes a bit. 

“Then I will see you on the battlefield,” he smiles darkly and I chuckle. 

I select two blades, unenchanted, for the deed and hurry to the training grounds where I find that most of the Companions have gathered to watch the spectacle. Ria gives me a grin as I pass. I wink back at her. 

As I drop into a fighting stance, I hear Vilkas quietly ask Torvar to fetch the healer.

“Your lover seems concerned for you.” The boy attempts to taunt as we circle each other. His foot work is sloppy. I’m almost disappointed that this will be a quick fight. 

I let him come to me, charging like a mammoth. I sidestep and smack him in the back with the flat of one of my blades, sending him stumbling. I sigh.

“Lucky hit,” he grunts, face redding. This time I charge him. Feigning to the right while attacking to the left. He is far too easy to fool, and I leave a nasty cut to his forearm before darting back. It would’ve been easy to end the fight right there and then, but I aim to teach him some humility. 

He circles me slowly. When he attempts to charge again, I stand my ground and block his blow. He is strong enough to push me back a few paces, but that is what I was aiming for. I let him press all his weight into his blade and break away at the last second. He falls to his knees and I lazily deal a cut to his cheek. Deep enough to scar, but not enough to cause any damage. I thought he could use a little reminder of our encounter. 

“That was a dishonorable blow, my love” Vilkas calls from the sidelines, amusement coloring his tone. 

“I promised I wouldn’t kill the boy, not that I wouldn’t maim him.” I shoot back with a small grin.

“Do you yield now child? Or do you care to suffer more embarrassment?” I ask, not unkindly. 

He struggles to his feet, rage clear in the set of his jaw. He charges me again. I sidestep, tripping him with my foot. He crashes to the ground, breathing hard. I place one of my blades gently against his heart.

“If I had less honor, I would kill you here and now for your foolish remarks. Get up,” I say, sheathing my blades, “Learn some manners, and perhaps in a few years you will make a fine warrior. Find us when you do, and for divines’ sake work on your fighting stance.” The companions erupt in applause. Ria whistles. I turn to my friends and give a dramatic bow. Behind me, I hear the boy charge. I pull my blades and whip around, blocking with one hand, and placing the other against his throat. Everyone goes silent. I hear a few draw their weapons ad I watch the rage in his eyes slowly morph into fear. 

“We are warriors, child, we fight with honor. For all your high remarks, today you have shown neither aptitude for blade nor strength of character. You’d best leave now, before my friends get angry.” He nods quickly, face drained of color. He scurries off when I lower my weapons. 

“Well,” I say, straightening my armor, “what are we all staring at? Let’s get on with our day.” 

“Send word to the healer that I will pay the boys expenses,” I tell Torvar. 

“You did well, love. I don’t think I could've shown such patience.” Vilkas smiles at me.

“Well, we can't have word getting out that we kill entitled men, not when so much of our coin comes from rescuing them.” I laugh. Ria runs up to us, excited as a pup.

“That was epic!”

“Thank you sister, but next time feel free to kick his ass yourself. I don’t know what the little milk drinker said to make you so quiet, but I’ve no qualms about you defending your honor, and I’m sure that the rest of the circle doesn’t either.” I look up at Vilkas, who gives an agreeable nod.

“But I’m not in the Circle”

“Aye, but you’ve a right to your dignity, sister, and we would never ask you to give that up” Vilkas says. 

“Alright then.” Ria smiles at us brightly. 

I look around at my friends, training and laughing in the sun, and I smile. 

  
  



	23. Dwarven Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byirith is a mad scientist.

Time passes quickly here. I'm loath to leave Whiterun, but i can't ignore my destiny. I'm never gone long, always returning within a month. It feels like I've found home again. 

Vilkas often travels with me; he hates parting as much as I do. But on matters that require stealth, I still go alone. We write to each other constantly, even if we don't send them. Post travels slower than I do, most of the time. 

Today I return home from a longer journey. I've been gone for three weeks tracking down the elders roll. Pathanax told me to return when i was ready to fight Alduin, but i know i'm not there yet. The dragonrend shout will give me a fighting chance, but I need more training. I need to think this through carefully. If i die, Alduin will-. I shudder and try to think on something else. Maybe come spring… i muse, opening the door to Jorrvaskr. 

“Petals!” Torvar shouts from table. Im just in time for dinner.

“Asshole!” I say in the same cherry tone. Farkas laughs.

My eyes scan the room for Vilkas, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“He’s at the bar.” Ria says, smiling. Maybe Farkas is right; I'm an open book.

“Thanks sister!” I say with a wink, tuning to go.

“Aww leaving so soon!” Torvar yells. He’s been in the mead, it would seem. 

“As much as I delight in your company, I'm afraid that Vilkas is my favorite.” I tease, he pretends to be offended.

“Ah, you’ve no heart harbinger! Just cause he’s beddin you, you give him special treatment!” I idly pick up something from a side table and chuck it at his head. An apple, apparently. He’s too drunk to dodge and it hits him square in the chest. Good thing I aimed low. He grins.

“Food fight!”

Oh shit. I hurry out the door. If Tilma finds out I started it…

At the Bannered Mare, I spot Vilkas at a table in the back. I can't keep from grinning until I notice the company he holds. 

“Byir? Have you lost your mind?” I pull up a chair.

“That's what i was telling her!” Vilkas says. The scowl he had been wearing turns into a surprised grin as I settle in beside him.

“Fine way to greet your family, cousin!” She says, flipping her hair. I catch her eyes wandering the bar, landing on Mikael. 

“Don't even think of it, he’s a bastard.” I say, snapping her attention back to me. 

“You promised you’d bring me to a dwarven ruin, and I'm here to hold you to it!” She says, eyes meeting mine with defiance. 

“That doesn't mean you should come to town and make yourself a target!” She scoffs.

“Byir, you don't understand how serious this is-”

“I am well aware of the danger! You think just because you're a warrior that you have the only claim on freedom?” I pause, thinking quickly.

“Fine! I’ll keep my promise,” I say after some time, “but I have a few conditions.”

“I expected as much,” she grins, “name your price.”

“You'll stay at Jorrvaskr while I make preparations. You’re to tell everyone that we’re sisters and-”

“Why?”

“I can offer you more protection as a first of kin. And you're to stay away from Torvar. I'd hate to have to kill a shield brother for wronging you.” Vilkas hides a smile in his mug. 

“Is that all?”

“Not by a long shot! If I let you get hurt, Gran would have my head. You are to listen to what I say, and obey my orders- don’t make that face!- and if there’s a fight, you are to stay out of it. Do you understand?”

“Fine, but you have to help me bring home samples from the ruins.” I sigh. Stubbornness runs in the family.

“Fine.” I say. Vilkas wraps an arm around me, amused at my annoyed expression. 

  
  


To say that the Companions were surprised to meet my “sister” is an understatement. 

“I’d appreciate your discretion in the matter,” I say, after explaining why I never spoke of my family. 

After a long silence, Aela speaks. 

“You can trust us,” she says, “so long as you require our silence, we won’t speak a word of your connection.” 

“Yeah! We can tell everyone that she’s courting me!” Torvar slurs with a grin.

“I  _ will _ kick your ass Torvar.” I say, shooting him a deadly look that makes his smile falter. 

It only takes me a few days to prepare. I stock Byir with enough health potions to bring a draugr back to life, and plan out the safest root i know to a ruin i cleared out years ago. Byirith gets on well with the companions, unsurprisingly. She’s always had a knack for making friends. The day before we’re set to leave, Vilkas gets called out for a contract.

“We can wait for you to get back,” I say, “I'll need your help to keep an eye on Byir in the ruins. With her luck she’ll stumble upon a centurion.” 

“I don't want to keep you, I know you've got to be at the college next month, and this contract is going to take a few weeks.” He says glumly, “if they hadn't asked for me specifically, I'd have pawned it off on Aela.”

“Curses! Why'd you have to be such a talented warrior!” I tease, leaning towards him across the table. He grins and takes my hand, gently drawing patterns on my palm. 

“In all seriousness,” I sigh, “I'll need to bring someone.” 

“What about my brother?” He looks up from our hands, “he’s great at rescues.”

“Aye that's true,” i deliberate for a few moments, “do you think Byir can be trusted around him?”

“What do you think?” 

“I think…” i say slowly, “she’ll be alright. She tends to attract to the poet types, and fortunately your brother’s not much of a talker. I'd hate for her to break his heart.” 

“You're one to speak ill of poets, petals.” He grins.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Who told you that?” Heat rises to his cheeks and i grin.

“Saw some drawings too,  _ deathbell _ .” 

“I am going to kill my brother.”

“Ahh, that’s not nice, my love! It’s only fair that i know your secrets too.” He grins and shakes his head. 

“I hope he wakes up a mechanical spider.” 

“If you gave Byir some coin, I bet she could reanimate one for you.” Vilkas laughs. 

That night I ask Farkas if he’d like to join us. I quietly inform him that Byir isn't actually my sister, and I'll need to escort her home after seeing the ruins. Surprisingly, he seems excited for the adventure, even after I warn him about the mechanical spiders.

“So long as they aren't moving, I’ll be fine.”

“I cleared the ruins a while ago, but there’s always the chance I missed some, if you aren’t comfortable I can find someone else to help me babysit.” Byir gives me a dirty look and I grin back at her.

“I’ll be alright.” He says, quietly looking between us. 

“Then it’s settled, we leave at dawn.” 

“I’ll meet you at the Arcanium after my contract,” Vilkas cuts in, taking the chair beside mine and sending me a smile. 

The ruins are only a day and a half’s journey away. By nightfall, we’ve made good time. I set up camp quickly while Farkas scouts the area for threats. Byirith helps me make dinner. 

“So this Farkas is Vilkas’ twin?” 

“Aye.” I say, shooting her a look.

“He doesn't say much does he. Not very intelligent?”

“He’s smarter than folks give him credit for.” I respond. 

“Certainly handsome…”

“Byir, must you always be this way?” I say, exasperatedly tossing the firewood I was carrying down beside the fire. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Men are worth more than their fancy words and fine eyes. Farkas is a good man, don't play with his feelings.” She looks at the fire, taken back by my scolding tone. 

“I’m sorry cousin, I know he’s your friend.”

“I consider him a brother, Byir, just as I consider you my sister. I would hate for either of you to be hurt.” She smiles at me.

“You’re more fun when you aren’t being sentimental,  _ petals _ .” I give her a dark look and she laughs. 

“What’s so funny?” Farka asks, emerging from the shadows. 

“Loa writes poetry about flowers.” I smack her arm.

“Ah, is that why Vilky calls you petals?”

“Shut up!” I say, face red. They laugh. 

“I mean it! I’ll conjure a spider!” It’s an empty threat, I don’t have a spell to call spiders, but his face still pales.

“ _ You’re _ afraid of spiders?” Byirith asks, incredulous. Farkas turns red and she giggles.

“Says the girl who’s afraid of foxes?” I tease, and Farkas coughs to hide a laugh.

“What’s so scary about a fox?” he asks, in a more serious tone. 

“You’ve evidently never been bitten by one!” she laughs, not one to be embarrassed. 

We spend a few days in the ruins. Byirith is ecstatic, taking notes and samples, running about like a child. Farkas and I have our hands full trying to keep her out of trouble. So far, she hasn’t found any, but I keep my guard up regardless. 

“I wish I could live here!” she exclaims as we settle down at the makeshift camp I made in the ruin’s entrance. 

“You want to live in a ruin?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s so amazing!” I laugh.

“You’ve never fought a falmer. Angry little bastards.” I shudder, but she isn’t listening. She looks around.

“Where’d Farkas go?” She asks.

“Don’t know, but we’d better find him, these ruins aren’t safe at night.” I rise and strap on my sword. I see her pick up her woodcutting axe.

“Figure I'll do better with this than a sword,” she explains and I nod in agreement. 

We don’t have to go far. At the end of the hall, I spot Farkas standing quietly, looking into an alcove. 

“Farkas, what are you doing?” I yell. Foolish mistake, it wakes the spider. He is frozen in fear, so I dart forward to kill it. Byir beats me there, chopping its metal head off with her axe in an easy swing.

“Byir,” I snap, “I told you to stay out of the fights!”

“What kind of logger would I be if I couldn’t kill a simple spider!” She turns to Farkas, “are you alright?”

“Yeah… thanks.” He says, looking shaken.

“Sorry Farkas, it was my fault it woke up, I shouldn’t have yelled.” I say, nudging a metal leg with the tip of my boot. He shudders and I quickly stop. 

“Let’s go back to camp, hmm?” I suggest. Byir looks longingly at the mechanical beast. 

“Would it bother you if I brought it back?” She asks Farkas, eyes darting over the broken gears.

“Not at all.” He pulls himself together and gives us a reassuring smile. 

“If it bothers you I won’t, it’s just so fascinating! The way it moved-” she stops herself when she sees him turn pale. 

“You know what, it can wait till tomorrow, let’s go eat.” She says, leading the way back to camp. 

Back at camp, she starts drafting out a diagram of the spider from memory. I cast mage light to help the process and she gives me a grateful smile. I see Farkas watch us from the other side of the fire, quickly sketching something on a bit of scrap paper. When I get up to make tea, I hear Byirith exclaim.

“Ooh, what are you drawing?” She scoots closer and looks over his shoulder. He blushes.

“This is incredible! May I?” she asks, taking the paper without waiting for him to answer and holding it up to the light. 

“How did you get its legs right?” She fetches her own sketch and brings it back to compare the two, apparently he was drawing the spider. 

“I uh…” Farkas stutters. 

“Byir, it’s rude to look at someone’s sketches without asking.” I remind her.

“Oh, sorry.” She hands back the drawing, looking abashed. 

“S’ ok.” He says, “you can keep it if you want. I don’t like spiders.” 

“Really?” She lights up, “are you certain? This is such a fine diagram.”

“Sure, I was gonna burn it anyway.”

“Burn it?!” her eyes widen, “How dare you!” 

“I…” His face turns red. 

“Can you draw the entrance tower? Ooh what about the steam engines? Can you-”

“Byirith!” I admonish,and she blushes, remembering herself. 

“Sorry, I got excited. You’re a very talented artist, I don’t mean to be pushy.”

“S’ok” he says. 

“No it’s not, I was rude. Don’t be so easygoing, I may not be a warrior but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to tell me to piss off.” She smiles at him and after a while, he returns it. 

Two days later, we leave, cutting a path through the woods to Gran’s house. 

“You’d better wait in the forest, Gran knows about your pranks.” I tell Farkas.

“You’re the prankster?” Byir says, “Why didn’t you say so? I owe this girl some trouble.” She nudges me in the stomach and I laugh.

“You do not, I paid my dues. And don’t you get any ideas-” I say, swinging to face Farkas, “or I’ll tell your brother who really put dye in his warpaint last month.” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. 

Just then, I hear a scream from above. I pull my bow.

“Dragon!” I shout, “Get Byir to cover, I’ll handle it.” Farkas nods and leads Byir away, she resists.

“You can’t take it alone, let me help, I have my bow, I can shoot.”

“No!” I snap, running off after the beast, “Farkas don’t you dare let her follow me!”

The fight is over faster than I would have thought. As I stand over the bones of the beast, absorbing its soul, I ponder my situation. Something seems to click. I handled this beast alone and hardly broke a sweat, why couldn’t I defeat Alduin. 

When I get back to where I left them, Farkas has Byir by the wrists, the forest floor is scuffed from a struggle. He is sporting some new bruises and a black eye.

“By Talos, cousin, what did you do?”

“I had to restrain her.” Farkas says helplessly. I cast healing hands and the bruises fade from violent blue to dark yellow. They’ll leave a mark for a few days, but he isn’t hurt. 

“You fool! I could’ve helped.” She snaps, rubbing her wrists in indignation. 

“It’s over now Byirith, no harm done.”

“You treat me like a child! I am a grown woman, I can help.”

“I’ve seen dragons wipe out entire campments of trained soldiers, it isn’t a matter of age, but skill.” She gives me a dirty look, but stops arguing. 

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she grumbles, Farkas gives her an understanding nod. 

“Thank you for not letting Byir get herself killed.” I say, falling back into step beside her. 

“No problem, how was the dragon?” I turn to shoot him a grin over my shoulder.

“Epic.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry I haven't posted in a few days, I'm working on a different, not for fun, project that is taking most of my time... It is very dull, I hope I finish it soon.  
> Haha, anyway, I have a few more updates for you, but after that I probably won't post again until next week (or sooner, I never know with Madaloa). So enjoy! 
> 
> In other news, Byirith made this chapter go so fast; what a whirlwind! She's such a fun character, I hope she comes back to the story. Madaloa refuses to spoil it for me... 
> 
> Hope you all have a wonderful day, I'll post the next updates shortly. Toodles :)


	24. Alduin's Bane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oooooohhhhhh, Loa's in troubllleeeeeee! 
> 
> In other words, the Companions aren't happy that she tried to take on Alduin alone. Prepare for some angst my friends, because petals brings it by the bucket load...

After returning Byir to Gran, I head to the Mages College. A few weeks pass in quiet deliberation. If Vilkas notices that I’m distracted, he doesn’t mention it. Before long, we head back home to Whiterun, and I have made up my mind.

Writing the letter is harder than I would have thought. I put down the names of the people who would need to be contacted if… if… I write that he won’t need to use them. I’ll be home in under a month. High Hrothgar isn’t far from Whiterun, after all. 

  
  
  


When I left that morning, the sky was red. I’d paid a courier to deliver the letter to Vilkas a few days after I'd left, and tried to put the what ifs out of my mind. 

By the time I reached the path to High Hrothgar, my soul was still. The sky is gray now, and cold as the biting wind. Evening will fall soon, but I won’t stop, not until I reach the end…

  
  
  
  


I failed. Parrthurnax assured me that I didn’t, that I can still win, but Alduin was in my grasp, and he slipped away. For the first time since I was a child, I pray. Burnt knees hit stone, breath trapped in words, I call on the gods to guide me. For once, Parrthurnax does not utter a sound. The world has fallen around me, is falling still, but I am trapped in a destiny I can’t control. A destiny that encompasses the entire world. 

“Dovakiin, you have defeated him, why do you weep?” 

“Defeated him? And nearly died in the process,” I rise slowly, '' and for what, he lives!” He snorts,and the scent of fire on his breath makes me flinch.

  
  


I leave the Throat of the World, silent. He said that i'll need to speak with the Jarl when I'm ready to continue. Growing up, I'd learned that the world doesn't give second chances often. I’ll need to be wary. Keep my guard up. The journey back to Whiterun feels smaller somehow, in the face of what lies ahead. 

Outside the main gate, Aela waits for me. 

“What were you thinking?!” Her voice is rage, and i'm too tired to fight it. 

“I failed.” I answer shortly, pushing past her. She grabs my arm and i wince as armor moves over half healed wounds. 

“You were a fool to go alone! Not one of us would have left you to fight Alduin by yourself.” 

“You would have been killed.” She laughs coldly as she guides me back to Jorrvaskr. Though her anger is tangible, she loosens her grip on my arm, evidently noticing my burns. 

“That isnt your decision to make.” 

“It’s my destiny, therefore it’s my decision.” She gives me a dark look and pushes open the door. 

The rest of the Companions surround me. Some are relieved, others share Aela’s anger. I walk past them, vacant eyed, cutting a path for my chambers. They argue amongst themselves. I hear Ria say she’ll fetch the healer. I've no need for a healer, and tell her as much in a clipped tone. If i weren't so despondent i could have healed myself completely by now. A part of me wants the experience to leave a scar, a reminder of my folly. 

Finally reaching my room, i collapse into a chair and put my head in my hands, resting my elbows on the table. After a while of grumbling, admonishment, and general whining, the companions leave me alone, sensing that i'm not in the mood for conversation. I sigh deeply. 

“Madaloa?” Farkas asks from the doorway. I raise my head. “Are you alright?”

“I don't know.” I say quietly. He comes into the room and takes the seat across from me. 

“Where’s your brother?” I ask, suddenly noticing his absence.

“He went after you when he got the letter. Athis has gone to retrieve him.”

“How are my chances for forgiveness?” I ask in a dull voice. He shakes his head.

“That’s what i thought.” I say. 

We sit in silence, a welcome change from the rest of the companions angry babbling.

Finally i say,

“Are you mad too?”

“Yeah,” he says, “but i’ll get over it.”

“Thanks, brother.” He gives me a tired smile. 

“He’ll get over it too,” He says, “sulk for a week or two, act like a brat, but eventually he will be fine.”

“You speak from experience, I take it,” I crack a tiny smile, the first since I left. 

“Naturally,” he snorts. 

“So, what happened?” He asks the question I've been dreading. 

“I learned a spell that tears a dragon from the sky. Tried to use it on Alduin, defeated him in battle, but before I could kill him…” I swallow my rage and despair, finding it hard to distinguish between the two. 

“Bastard got away?” He finishes. I nod slowly.

“Happens to the best of us.” 

  
  


“Thanks… for not prying.” I say, rising with a deep groan. 

“Any time sister,” he says, “Where are you going?”

“I'd better let Aela beat the shit out of me so she stops being bitchy.” I say and he laughs dryly. 

“Let everyone watch, they'll feel so sorry for you that they'll forget they're angry too.” 

“Clever.” I say, walking up the stairs with the same proud resolve as a prisoner going to execution. I should know, I've been there. 

  
  
  
  


The next morning, I finally take the time to heal myself. The burns heal quickly; they were not deep, and my armor is enchanted against dragon flames. Unfortunately, the bruises that Aela left took a fair deal of energy to heal, and still leave shadows on my skin after I'm done. I'm sure she’ll find it amusing that a dragon left less damage than her. 

The good thing about warriors is that once you've paid your dues, there are no hard feelings. In the thieves guild or dark brotherhood, grudges can last decades, but here among the companions, fights end in the sparring ring. 

“Madaloa?” Ria enters without knocking, “ahh, you're finally up. Aela is planning a party this evening… you know, to celebrate you not dying.” She grins.

“Fair enough, when are Vilkas and Athis due back?”

“Midday. Athis took a horse, so he’ll have caught up by now.” 

“Good luck getting Vilkas on a horse.” I say with a small smile. They probably won't be back until tomorrow. Call me a coward, but I’m not looking forward to our impending argument. 

“He took one to find you.” I pause, shocked. Vilkas has always hated riding.

“Why?” I ask, and she shrugs. 

“Well, i'll leave you now, you'd better wash up, you smell like you've rolled in a fire pit.” 

After breakfast, I take Ria’s advice and head down to the stream. After i wash, i sit on a rock in the sun, letting the warmth thaw my fingers and toes, chasing away the river’s sweet chill. I stay there for some time, watching butterflies and bees sip from the waters edge, and letting the sound of its movement still my nerves. For a moment, I allow myself to forget my destiny and simply be. But soon enough, the moment is over. I dress quickly and return to Whiterun. The morning has passed into noon. 

Outside of Jorrvaskr, I hear muffled shouting. I open the door quietly.

“You just let her leave again? Are you insane?!” Vilkas is back, it would seem. His anger is tangible, but i know it's not directed at Ria, who faces him with a bored look of indifference. For a split second, i almost chicken out. But i steel my nerves and close the door softly behind.

“She’s a grown woman, she can bathe herself.” Aela says, coming to Ria’s defense. 

“She nearly died!”

“‘Nearly’ is not the word I would use.” I say, schooling my features into a stern frown. He turns on me, face lighting up with hundreds of emotions I can't name. I'm sure anger is among them, but when he rushes me I hold my ground. 

He sweeps me into his arms and gives me a bone crushing hug. 

“Loa.” 

“Uh hi?” I say. He steps back and I see a scowl form on his lips. 

“How could you? You betrayed us, you could’ve been killed!” His words come out in a rush, filling the hall with noise. I see Aela give the other Companions a meaningful look and herd them out the door. Damn traitors.

“I missed you too-" i say, attempting humor. His frown deepens.

“What were you thinking?” He says, quietly, and even a fool could catch the hurt in his eyes.

“I couldn't lose you,” i say, voice hoarse, “i couldn't ask that of you.” 

“”That’s ridiculous!” His anger returns, cleanly covering the pain I know lies beneath. I sigh.

“Let’s go down stairs,” I say, “if you're going to keep yelling, I'd rather no one hear. The guards will come, and Farkas and i played a prank on one of then that-"

“Don't change the subject.” He growls, but lets me guide him to the Harbingers quarters. 

Once the door is closed firmly behind us, i turn to him.

“Out with it then.” I say.

“What?” 

“Whatever you have to say,” I cross my arms, “unless you'd prefer to fight me like Aela did, in which case we should go to the training grounds.”

His eyes flash.

“You think so little of me? That i'd fight a lover.”

“We’ve sparred plenty.” I point out. He glares down at me.

“That’s different and you know it, Madaloa.”

“Then get on with the lecture,” I lean against the wall. 

“Why?” He spits the word at me as though it burns his throat. 

“I can't lose you.” I say, knowing that in his anger, he won't see reason. 

“How would you feel if i left you like that. Left a fucking note-“ he rips the paper from his pocket and waves it in front of my nose, “instead of telling you myself.” 

“You wouldn't have let me go alone.”

“You're damn right i wouldn't!” He snaps, tossing the paper behind him. I watch it float to the ground as he continues to yell himself hoarse.

“-and then you come back here and act like nothing happened- are you even listening?” He steps closer, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Must i? I already know what you'll say.” 

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” He growls, arms slamming into the wall, caging me there. I lift an eyebrow, unintimidated.

“And?” I ask.

And he kisses me roughly. Teeth knock together, air forced from lungs, he pins me to the wall. 

Finally, he draws his mouth from mine, breathing hard.

“If you want to stop, you'd better tell me now, because i don't intend to be gentle.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will be NSFW. As always I separate the smut from the story so that those who don't want to read it don't have to.  
>  It's also a very short chapter, after all, it's only my second smut and I'm still a bit unsure of how to write them lol. The chapter after that will be quiet short too, and that's all I've got for now. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	25. *Anger Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda kinky and IDK how to feel bout that... I hope it's at least somewhat presentable, I'm too embarrassed to edit it haha...

“And how is this any different from fighting?” I ask, pulling him down to kiss me again. His hands slid under my armor and he pulls away just enough to answer.

“I find it far more enjoyable, don't you?” I make an agreeable noise in the back of my throat as his lips find mine. Tongue and teeth and fire, this is no sparring match, but a battle. He pulls back to trail rough kisses down my throat. He rips my armor off with ease. I feel the sting as the leather clasps snap and break. I reach for him but he grabs my hands in his own, pinning them above my head. 

“I don't think so.” He snarls against my neck and I shiver. 

“Love?” I ask, i've never seen him lose control like this. 

“You don't get to call me love, not after what you did.” He snaps, biting down hard on my neck to prove his point. 

“Get on your knees.” He says in a voice made of gravel. 

“Make me,  _ love _ .” I should know better than to goad him, but a part of me enjoys his fire. I'll blame it on the dragon in my blood. 

He attacks my mouth once more, biting my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“You'd be wise to obey, whelp.” He says against my mouth with ragged breath. 

“Or what?” I say, leaning forward to bite his neck. When my eyes dart back to his, their intensity is almost startling.

“Or I'll tie you to the bed and make you obey.” My eyes widen and the corners of his mouth turn up in a wicked way. It’s not a smile, more like a wolf baring his teeth. 

“Mmh, tempting...” I kiss his neck and he grinds against me. 

“What’s it gonna be, love?” 

“I thought we weren’t using that word.” I whisper in his ear, smiling when I feel him tremble.

“No, love,  _ you  _ aren't using that word. I'm not the one who's in trouble.” 

“Says who?” I bite him again, gently running my teeth down his neck. He groans deep in his throat and his grip on my hands eases. I yank them free, rubbing my sore wrists. Giving him a daring smile, I kneel.

“Good girl.” He gets out, eyes darkening. 

“Now that i'm here, what would you have me do?” I give him a sassy smile and he fumbles with his belt. 

I've favored him this way before, but he’s never been so brutal. When he finally pulls away, I cough, struggling to catch my breath around an aching jaw. His eyes fill with concern, until I grin at him. He pulls me back to my feet and shoves me against the wall. 

“Why do you torment me,” he growls in my ear giving me no time to prepare. The pace he sets is brutal. Fingers digging into my hips, I'm certain I'll have bruises. The wall behind me digs into my spine. 

“Because i love you!” I gasp.

And for the second time in less than a fortnight, the world falls around me. At least this time, I'm happy about it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it was a short one. I'm learning ok, bear with me. I hope you enjoyed, friends, I'm headed to the snowbank yet again.


	26. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to lighten up a bit...

Somehow we untangle ourselves and wind up in my bed, thoughtly exhausted. 

“Feel better?” I ask, tilting my head and giving him a little smile. He chuckles darkly.

“Not entirely.” His arms wrap around me, holding me against his chest. I suddenly realized that he never bothered to take off his armor. 

“I had my reasons to go alone.”

“I know, but it doesn't mean I'm ok with it.” 

“You're not a dragonborn, you would've died.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I'm not willing to risk anyone’s life, you know that.”

“Aye, but you don't have to go alone.” 

“You can't protect me from destiny.” I turn to face him, eyes meeting his.

“I'm not trying to keep you from fulfilling your destiny,” he sighs deeply, “i just… want to be there for you.” 

“I can handle Alduin, but if anyone died for me…” I break off, eyes filling with angry tears at the thought.

“If you die, everyone will,” He says, not ungently, “there’s no shame in having help, you don't have to save the world alone.”

“I had help, Paarthurnax-“

“An elderly dragon who hasn't fought in years hardly counts. We are warriors, Loa, let us help you.”

“But-“

“This is our land too, we have a right to fight for it.” I pause, I hadn't thought of it that way.

Finally, i say, 

“Maybe, if we train together and they learn the proper way to take down a dragon…” I trail off.

“Thank you, love.” He lets out a deep breath and holds me closer, face in my hair. 

“Loa?” 

“Hmm?”

“I'm sorry I was rough with you.” He blushes and I laugh.

“Sorry? That was amazing!” He smiles hesitantly and I grin up at him, “You've been holding out on me.” 

We lay in comfortable silence for a while.

“Oh gods!” He says suddenly turning pale.

“Whats wrong?”

“The others, do you think they heard us?” I turn red at the thought.

“I'd say there’s a fair chance of it.” 

“How will we face them? Do you think we can sneak out?” 

“I could, but you couldn't sneak past a blind horker.” I tease.

“Shit.” He says, sinking back into the pillows. I sit up, looking for clothes. 

“We’d best get this over with, the longer we wait the more jokes they’ll come up with.” 

I yank a dress over my head, poking around in my bedside table for a brush. 

“Sit,” Vilkas says, gently taking the brush from my hands, “I'll braid it for you.” 

I smile, and let him tame my hair into something more presentable. When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on the top of my head.

“Do you have any health potions?” He asks, fingers ghosting over the marks on my neck.

“Fresh out, I could use magic, but some of these will still show.” His face flushes once more.

“What are the chances they won't notice?” I laugh.

“Slim to none.” 

When we open the doors to the training grounds, we’re greeted by a deafening roar of cheers and whistles. Vilkas wraps an arm around me, face red as the setting sun. 

“Vilkas, you’re lady can still walk, you'd best get back downstairs!” Torvar hollars from across the yard. Vilkas shoots him a scathing glare.

“Well,” I say, “what are you all staring at? Get back to training!” They laugh.

“You're not getting out of it that easy, harbinger! I trust you taught my brother some manners?” Farkas grins at us, and I feel my face warm. 

“Should we make a break for it?” Vilkas whispers in my ear and I giggle. 

“Don't even think of it!” Aela says, “we have a party planned, remember?” Damned werewolf hearing. 

“Then you’d best get your laughs out now,” I warn, “if I get to drinking I'll end up fighting you all for my man's honor.” Vilkas hides a smile. 

“Aye we all know how found you two are of fighting” 

“Keep it up Torvar, i’ll kick your ass first.” I laugh. 

“Where’s your armor, harbinger?” Njada calls from beside the training dummies. 

“I’ll fix it later…” I mumble with a blush. Laughter echoes through the evening air. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, that's all I have for now. At the latest, I'll post sometime next week, but it is goodbye for now... unless Madaloa forces me to stay up late writing instead of working on my other project... Damned imaginary warrior keeps me up at night thinking of plot points and punching sexists... 
> 
> Anyway, toodles!


	27. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument and a hunting trip, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Look's like I couldn't stay away from the story haha... Hope you enjoy

“This is ridiculous!” I yell, storming into Jorrvaskr. All other conversation fades as the companions look up from their lunch.

“Jarl didn’t go for it?” Aela says.

“Not while there’s a war on.” I slouch into my usual chair with a huff. 

“What do we do?” Ria asks. I shake my head solemnly. 

Since I defeated Alduin, the Companions and I have been training. I told them all I knew of the task ahead, even of Parrthunax. They were sceptical, but I assured them that he could be trusted. I understood the strength it took him to overcome his nature, I still have trouble overcoming my own.

“Is there no way to get him to see reason?” 

“No,” I run a hand through my hair and wearly accept the tea Vilkas brings me. He takes the chair next to mine and looks around thoughtfully.

“We could go public.” He says after awhile. 

“What do you mean?”

“Tell all of Whiterun that their Jarl is too cowardly to save the world, force his hand.”

“That’s treason, he'd have us killed.” Aela points out.

“I'd like to see him try.” The Companions share grim smiles. 

“It's too risky.” I say finally, putting down my tea with a soft thunk. The hot liquid splashes over my fingers and I wince.

“What other choice do we have?” We sit in silence. 

“We could end the war.” Farkas says, quietly putting down his sketchbook on the table.

“No, icebrain, we can't end a gods-dammed war with scarcely a dozen warriors!” Aela snaps.

“Aela,” I say sternly, “that’s enough.” 

She falls silent. And I drum my fingers on the table.

“How do you propose we end the war?” Vilkas asks. 

Farkas shrugs and opens his book again. I notice a smudge of charcoal on his cheek and have the absurd urge to laugh.

“Well, in the meantime we keep training,” I say, “and if anyone has any remarkable ideas, we’ll call another meeting.” 

As we finish lunch, I turn to Vilkas.

“Do you want to go hunting? I'm sick of hitting dummies, I need to kill something.” 

“Aye, when do you want to go?”

“Tonight?” 

“Hunting? Can i come?” Ria says excitedly. I shoot Vilkas a questioning look and he nods.

“More the merrier!” I say. 

“In that case,” Aela says, rising to go back to the training area, “count me in too.” 

The rest of the Companions perk up, and I laugh.

“Surely we can't all go, does anyone want to stay?” Torvar raises a hand, but no one else volunteers. I shrug at the other members of the circle. 

“Ok, Torvar stays. Does anyone want to make sure he doesn't rifle through our stuff while we’re gone?” I ask. Athis raises a hand grumpily, followed by Njada. Both of them shoot Torvar dirty looks and he grins back at them. I take a sip of tea to cover a smile. 

“Fair enough. Why don't we bring some of the recruits?” 

“Absolutely not! This is a hunting trip not a field trip, if I wanted to babysit I'd have asked .” Aela snaps. I can't hide my chuckle and she gives me a scowl. I laugh harder. 

“I’ll stay too,” Farkas says suddenly, tucking a letter into his pocket. I notice the courier slip out the door, and find it odd that i didn't hear him come in. 

  
  


I loose the arrow with a soft exhale, grinning when it hits its mark.

“Damn good shot, love.” Vilkas claps my shoulder. I turn my smile on him and watch his eyes light up. 

“Nice one,  _ petals _ !” Aela says, earning an evil look that I know she catches despite the darkness. Damn werewolf eyesight. 

“I’ll skin it!” Ria says, taking off into the woods with a bright laugh. 

“Don't forget the antlers!” I call as the darkness of the forest swallows her. When she reemerges in the moonlight next to the dead elk she gives us an exaggerated wave and I grin. 

“What are you hoarding all this leather for?” Aela asks, picking up my heavy pack of pelts with a pointed groan. 

“Let’s call it a surprise.” I grin mischievously. 

“Aela! Come look!” Ria calls excitedly. Aela shakes her head in annoyance, dumping my pack into my arms with a grunt. 

“I said I didn’t want to babysit.” She grumbles as she runs off after Ria. 

“We’ll meet you back at the road.” I say cheerfully, pulling the pack onto my shoulders. 

  
  


On the road outside of Whiterun, I ease the heavy load off my shoulders and lean against a rock wall. We take in the early morning air, so fresh it aches in our lungs. The breeze tickles my sweaty back and I shiver. I cast magelight, squinting in the dark, and ruffle through my pack, counting quietly. 

“So, what  _ are  _ you planning to do with all those hides?” Vilkas asks, leaning against the wall beside me. 

“I thought you liked me in leather.” I give him a saucy grin and he laughs.

“It’s for dragon armor. If you're going to fight beside me, I’ll afford you every safety I can grant.” 

“That’s an expensive gift.” He smirks.

“Don't get cocky, I'm making it for all the companions. Been saving bones and scales for years and gods damn me if i'm not going to make good use of them.” He smiles down at me. 

“You know-”

“Shh!” I press a finger to his lips, “someone’s coming.”

I extinguish the mage light with a wave of my palm and pull my sword, crouching in the shadows behind the stone fence. Vilkas looks down at me with an amused expression. 

“It's just a travelling bard, love. Listen, you can hear him singing.” It’s true, a haunting tune echoes down the lane as the man approaches. I sheath my blade, face reddening, and hop back over the stone wall. 

“Greetings traveler!” I call to the bard to hide my embarrassment.

“Greetings travelers, care for a song?” 

I shrug.

“What ones do you know?”

“Many tales and stories of legends and heroes.” My mouth forms a wicked grin.

“Do you know Dragonborn Comes?” 

“Certainly!” I hand him some gold and he starts to sing. I shoot Vilkas a grin.

“Really love?” He does not look amused, but he wraps an arm around me regardless. I hide a snicker, shoulders shaking softly.

“Pretty arrogant to pay someone to sing your own song for you,” he whispers, “I ought to teach you some humility.” 

“This dragonborn sounds like a real bastard,” He speaks up in a serious voice. 

His stern expression cracks my thin facade; I can't hide my laughter anymore. The bard stops singing and glares at us.

“Sorry-“ i wheeze, wiping tears from the corners of my eyes “it’s not you, please continue.” 

The bard resumes singing, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Vilkas’ breath tickles my ear when he leans in again.

“Keep it up,” he whispers in my ear, hair shielding his words, “i'll make you sing this in the bedroom later.” 

I cackle. The bard stocks off in a rage and behind me Vilkas erupts in laughter. 

“You bastard!” I smack his arm playfully, “That poor fool probably hates us now!”

He grins smugly. 

“Ok, Mr. Smiles, what if he sends a hit out on us and I have to explain to the dark mother why we can't kill the 'idiot hunters near Whiterun'! Do you know how awkward it is to get a contract on yourself?”

“Does that happen often?”

“You’d be surprised.” I lean against his shoulder and rest my head on his chest. He wraps an arm around me and leans his head on mine. 

"I'm sure you manage it admirably." His smile makes my heart sing.

“You two are disgustingly cute.” Aela says, dropping a few more pelts at my feet.

“Love you too, Aela.” I say, and she pretends to gag. Ria laughs.

“Let’s head in. You need to tan those hides before they start to smell.” Aela remarks, nudging my bloody bag with her boot. I stifle a yawn and nod in agreement.

“You’re right, let’s get going. I believe Vilkas owes me a song.” I give him a wink and he chuckles.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! Thank's for reading! I am seriously honored that you guys are taking the time out of your days to keep up with my crazy, imaginary murder child. I read every comment and I'm just so grateful for this supportive community! 
> 
> "Can it, Ice Brain, you're boring the lovely readers!"  
> "Piss off, Aela! Or I'll make you babysit the whelps in the next chapter!" 
> 
> hehe sorry, these characters are so hard to handle! Aela says hi. 
> 
> See you all soon!


	28. A Thieve's Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our little Loa gets to kill some draugr! Also, Brynjolf is a bit of an ass... who knew?

“What is it, love?” Vilkas adks, taking in the way my face falls as I read the letter.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I'm just needed in Riften.” I say, smiling reassuringly. He nods slowly.

“When do we leave?” 

“You don't have to come,” i say handing him the letter, “you know i'd never ask you to compromise your morals.”

“You think i'm going to let you out of my sight after that stunt you pulled?” He teases and I roll my eyes playfully.

“I’m being serious, Vilkas.”

“So am i. I promised your Gran that I'd watch your back.”

“I don't need help.”

“I know, but that doesn't mean you couldn't use it. And besides, the letter said it's just a draugr pit, no compromised moral there.” I smile softly at him. 

“It’s still stealing.”

“Aye, and i won't be taking anything, just consider me a bodyguard.” He takes my hand, “no lost honor in defending a maiden.” 

“That ship’s sailed, you should know, you were on board.” He laughs, a warm sound that fills the mead hall, cheeks flushed with color, and I grin up at him. 

“Well, I’d be glad of the company, if you truly don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” he kisses the back of my hand and my heart does a somersault. I lean forward on my toes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“But how will i pay you, good sir?” I say in mock distress, as I pull away “I've spent all my gold on ebony for armor.”

“I’m sure we could come to some arrangement,” he grins slyly, lips hovering over my own.

“Uhhg, get a room!” Aela yells from across the hall in mock disgust. 

“Let ‘em alone, child, the world needs more young love.” Vignar says, leaning back in his chair like a wise sage. Aela fights to hide a chuckle at the sight. 

“Everyone’d seem young to you, old man.” Torvar interjects, tipping back in his chair. Vignar gives an indignant huff. 

“Sit up or you’ll lose your feet,  _ young man _ .” He replies, giving Brill a pointed look. 

He catches his meaning and walks by Torvar, casually bumping his chair. Torvar falls back with a strangled yell, hitting the floor with a hard thump.

“You’ll pay for that!” He yells, jumping to his feet.

“That’s enough, Torvar.” Aela says with a stern look in her eye.

“But-“

“Anyone can see it was an accident!” I say, biting my cheek hard to hide a smile. Aela has to press her lips together to keep from grinning. Sometimes, Torvar needs to be brought down a few pegs, and it seems we've all agreed that this is one of those times. 

“This is bullshit!”

“That’s no way to talk to an elder!” Vilkas chimes in. He is better practiced at hiding his thoughts, face a mask of stern serenity. I bite my cheek harder, nearly drawing blood.

“Apologize to Vignar, then go back to your training.” He continues and I have to turn away, shoulders shaking. Torvar grumbles, but does as he says. 

As soon as the door closes behind him, we break into laughter.

“Nice work, Brill!” I say, throwing an arm around his shoulder and giving him a little shake.

“Anytime, lady harbinger.” He responds, with a proud smile. Vignar smiles and raises his glass to us. 

* * *

“So, the letter mentioned a thief called Brynjolf would be joining us?” Vilkas says, watching me balance my way across the handrail of a walking bridge with the same wary eye a mother hen watches her chicks. I hide a grin at his stern expression and pretend to lose my balance, laughing when he doesn't take the bait. 

“Yes, Bryn is an old friend. In fact, he recruited me.” I say, stepping down to the walkway to fall in step beside him. 

“Ahh, is this the same man you cousin warned me about?” I give him a confused look.

“Did he?” I ask. His eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Aye, he said to beware of your past lovers.” I laugh, face redding.

“That’s ridiculous! Anyone who’s met the man can attest that the only thing he loves is gold.” 

“I wouldn't be so sure,” he draps an arm around my shoulders, “you are quite enchanting.” 

I snort, giving his hip a little bump with my own and wrapping an arm about his waist as we walk. 

“Only when it comes to armor and weapons.” 

“So I’ve no need to be jealous?” 

“Divines no! You know better than anyone how unconquerable my heart is.” I tease. His grin turns cocky.

“Is that so? I found it a rather simple task.”

“Simple, you say? Then answer me this, Mr. Charmer, how many years and pints of mead did it take?”

He laughs and places a quick kiss behind my ear. I giggle at how it tickles. 

  
  


Thyrnn meets us in the ratway, outside of the bar.

“Hail, Companion! I've spotted a thief!” He teases, pointing a finger at me with an air of dramatics. 

“And I a lowlife bandit! Quick, arrest him!” I shoot back, grinning. Vilkas shakes his head with a soft chuckle. 

“I see you’re still in one piece,” Thyrnn remarks, giving Vilkas a once over, “seems our  _ mutual associate _ liked you well enough.” 

“Aye, she did. Now what are you standing out here for? Did someone steal your sweetroll?” I interject, placing my hands on my hips. 

“Waiting for you! Took your sweet time making it here, didnt you?” 

“I came as soon as I got the letter, it isn’t my fault that you paid a cheaper rate.” 

“We’re thieves, do you really think we’re going to shell out extra just to talk to you?” 

“Then you’ve no right to complain.” I tease back, leading the way down the reeking old sewers to the bar. 

“Lass, glad you could come.” Brynjolf calls from the bar as we enter, he leans against it with arms crossed. 

“As if I would pass up a chance to kill draugr.”

“Can you kill something that’s already dead?” He asks as we approach, eyes alight with humor.

“Of course! If it can draw a blade or bow, it can die.”

“Not necessarily.” Vilkas says with a little laugh. I turn to smile at him.

“Really? I’ve never heard of a beast that couldn’t die, did you read of it somewhere?” He starts to answer, but Bryn cuts him off.

“And who’s this?” He asks, distrust clear in the tone of his voice.

“An associate of mine, expert in slaying draugr. I thought he would be good to have around for the raid.” I say quickly. Bryn raises his eyebrows, looking Vilkas over with an unreadable expression. 

“A companion? I'd thought better of you, lass.” 

“Well, we can't all sell falmer blood elixir, or whatever scheme you've cooked up this week. As horrifying as you may find it, some of us enjoy doing honest work to get by.” He snorts.

“Only those who aren’t intelligent enough to scheme.” He replies, and I roll my eyes.

“Says the man who stepped on every rune trap in our last raid.” I shoot back. He shrugs knowingly.

“What can i say, i was distracted.”  I don't like the way he looks at me, in that same appraising way that Vex first looked at Vilkas. It makes my skin crawl. 

“Let’s be off then, I've got more important things to do than stand around all day.” I say, turning to leave.

“I’ll meet you at the city gate, lass.” He calls behind us.

As soon as we reach the shadowy halls of the ratway, Vilkas pulls me to him. His mouth meets mine with a ferocity seldom seen outside of battle, hands pressing me to him.

“Sorry,” he says, blush evident even in the darkness of the sewers, “I lost my temper.” 

“Not that i don't appreciate the gesture, but what in the name of Talos for?” I ask, smile tugging at the corners of my lips. He looks abashed. 

“I didn't like the way he looked at you.” I laugh at the look of shame on his face and kiss him gently, cupping his face in chilled hands.

“To be entirely truthful, i didn't either,” I admit when we finally pull apart, “the men of the guild aren't known for their tactfulness,” i explain slowly, “well, you've met Thyrnn, the rest are just as sleazy. But Brynjolf has never acted in such a way, I'm as surprised as you.” 

“Are you truly so blind to the ways of men?” I laugh.

“I can solve any riddle or puzzle except those which lie behind the face of another.” 

“Poetic.” 

“I thank you, good sir.” I say with a dramatic bow. 

“Still, it was wrong to get jealous.” 

“Perhaps, but I certainly enjoyed your reaction,” I say with a grin, and he smiles reluctantly, "besides, you have nothing to worry over. I'm sure that Bryn values our friendship enough that he won't try anything." 

We meet Brynjolf at the gates, sun warming our backs. 

“So how far is this crypt?” I ask as we begin our journey. The guards give Bryn a dirty look as we pass. 

“Less than half a day's journey.”

“Excellent, we should have it cleared before tomorrow’s sun.” I say, pleased that our trip won’t be long. I hop up on a log beside the road, balancing my way along. 

“Are you certain we can trust this warrior of yours?” Brynjolf asks, giving me a disapproving glance as I go about my little game. 

“Certainly,” i say with the smallest hint of pride in my voice, “he is my love.” I hop down, not catching his reaction. 

The crypt is dark enough, but there’s no sneaking past draugr with Vilkas around. We make short work of them when they wake, and before long we reach a puzzle door.

“Bet you ten septim that arrows come out when you pull the lever!” I say, grinning. 

“Aye, and who's gonna be the fool pulling the lever, lass?” Bryn looks amused. 

“Me, obviously,” I scoff.

“Im not sure if this helps,” vilkas says, giving me a stern look when i reach for the lever, “but those symbols on the wall match the ones on those pillars.” 

I grin.

“You two are no fun!” And we flip the pillars to the right sides. The door opens with a loud screech.

“Looks like you owe us ten septim.” Vilkas grins at me and I give him a teasing scowl. 

The next room houses a draugr and a chest. After the threat is taken care of, i lean a torch close and take a look at the lock. 

“Ha, practically too easy.” I say, digging around in my bag for a lock pick. 

“Actually,” i lean back on my heels and hold the lockpick out to Vilkas, “would you like to try?” 

“Not really my thing.” 

“Ah, come on lad, it’s an easy pick.”

“No, if you don’t want to, i can get it.” I cut in, sending Brynjolf a dark look. He shrugs. 

“You know what, why not? Maybe i can find out what Farkas has been hiding in that strongbox of his.”

“Mostly letters.” I say offhandedly as i hand him the pick.

“Why you little sneak!” He teases, taking my place in front of the chest.

“What?! I didn't  _ read _ them, I was just curious, the bugger hides it under his bed like it's some big secret.” 

He laughs, accidentally breaking the lock pick in his distraction.

“No, lad, look here.” Brynjolf kneels beside him, carefully fishing the broken lock pick out of the tumbler and placing a new one in his hands. “Gentle, see, it's like making love to a woman.” 

I feel a small spark of anger at his condescending tone. Elbowing him out of the way, I respond in a tone that’s more mocking than intended.

“In that case, you cant have been with many adventurous women, for that is a terrible analogy. ”

"In my experience-"

"Aye, but not in his, you forget that he is my love, of course he isn't used to lovely ladies in fine dresses," I laugh, "nor is he familiar with sneaking away from their husbands, for that matter." 

"I don't-"

"I've heard the rumors, you old fiend, now if you would care to stop insulting my friends, I'll show him the proper way to break a lock." 

I gently guide Vilkas’ hands, “Here, it’s like bandaging a wound. Gentle but firm.” 

The lock opens with a satisfying click and I grin at Vilkas. 

“Great work! I’ll have you breaking into noblemen’s houses in no time!”

He smiles down at me and I open the chest, ruffling through. 

“Was this the piece we were looking for?” I ask, holding up an old looking amulet. 

“No lass, our client said it was a diamond necklace, and cursed besides.” Brynjolf says in an unrecognizable tone. I shrug and stuff the piece into my pocket.

“Not technically stealing if they're dead,” I whisper to Vilkas with a wink. He laughs. 

The ruins lead downward, the cold air becomes ice, and darkness morphs into a pitch so black, it seems to hum. I hold the torch close, letting the intense flame thaw my fingers and nose, heedless of the smoke. Before long, i feel the familiar thrum of thu’um, deep in my veins, pulling me forward.

“There’s dragon speech ahead, probably guarded by something tougher than a skeleton.” I say, extinguishing my torch with a bit of ice magic. 

“Deathlord?” Vilkas asks, instinctively reaching for his sword. 

“Doubtful, probably just some wights or scourges. Still,” i pause to paw through my bag, cursing myself for putting out the light so soon. I dig out some health potions and pass them to my companions.

“What about you?” Bryn asks, darkness cloaking his features.

“I’ve plenty of magika potions left.”

“Fair enough,” he mutters, nightingale armor making it near impossible to spot him in the dark corridor.

We reach a door, light glows faintly from within and i feel the blood calling to me through it. I stop, letting my friends catch up.

“It’s just through here, i’ll sneak in ahead and get some arrows into it, you two can clean up whatever i miss.” 

“As if you ever miss.” Vilkas whispers with a small chuckle. I smile at him, though the darkness hides it. 

Draugr deathlords are annoying bastards, I decide, yanking an arrow from my armor. I examine my chest plate with a glare, it left a deep gouge in the leather binding, that i’ll have to repair. Better than repairing myself, I muse, stalking up to the chest at the end of the room.

The fight went as planned, though it lasted a little longer than expected, due to said bastard deathlord. I had to use a time freeze shout, which helped considerably, but we still suffered a bit of damage. 

“Got it!” I say, tiredly holding up the cursed necklace.

“You shouldn't touch that with bare hands!” Brynjolf says, wincing as Vilkas tightens the bandage around his calve. It's a fairly deep cut, but it will be fine until we get camp made. 

“Relax, it only affects those who wear it.” I say, but wrap it in cloth nonetheless before handing it over. He stuffs it in his bag with a grateful nod. 

“How can you tell?” Vilkas asks, helping drag Brynjolf to his feet. He leans on our shoulders heavily, clearly pained.

“Just feels that way, ya know?” He smiles and shakes his head.

“It’s when you're sparring with someone and you can see where they're gonna strike next, before they move.” That seems to clear it up for him. We make it put into the night air, the trip back taking considerably less time than it took to clear it. 

We make camp a few paces from the entrance of the tomb. Vilkas lights a fire as I dig out my medical gear.

“I’m low on magic, i’ll have to stitch it, can you handle the pain or do you want a seditive?” I ask, Bryn’s eyes follow my hands as i deftly thread the needle and set water on the fire to boil.

“Sedative!” He says decidedly, as I drop the needle and thread into the steaming water. 

“Wine or mead?”

“Mead.” I hand it over and fish out the needle with a pair of tongs. Next I stuff some linen in the pot and instruct Vilkas to pull it out in a few minutes and hang it to dry over the fire. In the end, it takes both the mead and the wine to get Brynjolf buzzed enough to stitch him. 

I quietly show Vilkas where to hold him so he doesn't move his leg, and quickly clean the wound.

“Ready?” I ask, meeting his eye. 

“Aye, lass.” He responds, face flushed with liquor. Once the job is done, I wash my hands and clean my equipment.

“You did well, not many men could hold their tongues so well, even with less sensitive wounds.” I remark, repacking my apothecary satchel with practiced ease. I should know, I've had to listen to their screams. 

“I’ll get more firewood.” Vilkas says, standing with a groan. 

“I’ll heal your bruised ribs tomorrow, love.” I say, shooting him a smile. He waves a hand and limps off into the woods.

“Would you like help?” I call after him, shrugging at Bryn when I get no response. I turn back to my bag, humming softly to myself. 

“Come here lass.” Brynjolf says suddenly, and I scoot over to sit beside him.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” I reach for the wine, but am cut off when he sloppily tries to kiss me, I push him away, anger rising in my throat like a fire shout.

“What in the name of Talos do you think you're doing?” I scramble to my feet, face redding. 

“Ah, come off your high horse lass, if you can give it to some no-name warrior, you can give it to me.” He says, leaning closer to make a grab for my legs. I step back, fists clenched. I have to take a few steadying breathes before i can respond without punching him.

“He’s is  _ not _ a no name warrior, and if i hear you disrespect my love again, i’ll cut your throat myself.”

“You'd know all about that, hmm, Listener?” He spits the words at me, eyes clouded with wine. I fight the urge to growl. My wolf may be defeated, but she left some rather poor habits. 

“Do you really think he’ll stay with you if he finds out? Thieving is one thing, but murder? No, lass, you’re better off with someone less honorable.” This time, I do growl, a deep snarl that starts in the back of my throat and echoes with thu’um. 

“Shut up!” 

“Why? Did I hit a nerve? What did the emperor say when you slipped a knife in his back? Did he scream, lass?” He grins drunkenly, “I bet I could make you scream.” 

I don't remember moving forward, but I remember the sound of my fist connecting with his jaw, hard enough to make my knuckles ache. I was lucky; it wasn't a clean punch and if it had landed different, I could have broken a knuckle. I raise my fist again, fire building in my lungs.

“Loa?” Vilkas asks, dropping the fire wood at the outskirts of camp and rushing to capture my raised arm. 

“Let me go!” I snap, anger blurring my vision.

“No, love, if you kill your friend you'll never forgive yourself.” 

“He’s no friend, he’s a bastard!” I cry, struggling vainly against his grip. He pulls me to his chest, encasing me in his arms. I kick and claw, but he doesn't let go.

“You’d better hide for a few hours, let her cool off.” He tells Brynjolf, grunting when my elbow connects with his injured rib. 

“I’ll kill you! You piece of shit!” I cry, all thought lost in rage. I think i may have bitten Vilkas. I taste nothing but the iron of blood and rage. 

“Love, he’s gone, calm down.” But I don't stop struggling, even as the night air rushes to my head and we fall to the ground. He pins me beneath him, arms raised above my head. 

“Petals, he’s gone.” His words finally drift through the fog that clouds my mind. A few minutes pass before I relax, going slack in his grip.

“Sorry…” I say, struggling to control my racing heart, “I overreacted.” 

“What did he do?” He asks, cautiously releasing my hands.

“It doesn't matter.” I say, noticing the dark look in his eyes. I daresay his temper would nearly match my own if he found out that Brynjolf kissed me. 

“If it didn't matter, you wouldn't have tried to kill him.” I wince. I hadn't felt so angry since fighting Byir’s ex lover. 

“He was drunk, said something he shouldn't have.” I say, sitting up with a tired sigh. 

“What?” His eyes wash over my face, filled with such tender concern that I melt. 

“He said that if you knew i was an assassin, you wouldn't love me,” I let out a dark laugh, “damn fool.” 

Vilkas twines our fingers together and I lean into his shoulder.

“Damn fool indeed.” He says, wrapping an arm around me.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Aye, it’s a miracle i can walk.” He teases.

“I do believe I used those words in a different context, my dear.” He laughs and the sound fills me with warmth, replacing the cold heat of anger. 

“I love you so much.” I whisper, fingertips tracing the lines of his palm. 

“I love you too, petals.” He smiles and I lean up to kiss him. 

“He said something else, didn't he?”

“Aye, but i  _ would  _ feel bad if my friend got killed. I’ll tell you when we’re far from here.” He chuckles softly. 

“That’s probably wise.” 

The next morning, Brynjolf returns to camp, supporting a bruised jaw, limp, and looking hungover but otherwise unharmed.

“I’m sorry for what I said, lass.” He says, quietly helping us pack up camp. 

“As you should be.” I say, anger still present in the tone of my voice.

“I know it’s no excuse, but i was drunk, and i thought…” he drifts off, i look up from my pack with a look of steel in my eyes, “i thought we had something. After Nocturnal,and... I was jealous.” He admits, eyes avoiding mine. I turn my back to him.

“We had nothing more than friendship.” I say, tying my bedroll to my pack for more force than I intended. Vilkas looks up from across the fire pit, eyes questioning. I give him a small smile and a reassuring nod. I won’t lose my temper again. 

“I hope we can still be friends.” He says. 

“Aye,” i turn to him, “but if you  _ ever _ insult my love again, I will end you.” He holds up his hands, eyes wide.

“Point taken. Let’s get this damned necklace back to the cistern.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
> I hope my characterization of Bryn wasn't too harsh. I knew the moment that I introduced Vilkas to the Thieves Guild that there would be some drama- specifically I had that lock picking scene running around in my thick skull, knocking over all the vases and stealing my sweet rolls (damned annoying, that). 
> 
> I didn't originally intend to make him such an ass, in fact when I asked Loa she strongly advised against it, but alas, so the story went. No offense to Brynjolf, he seems nice enough aside from being a thief, but I wanted some DRAMA, and he always did strike me as the pushy type...   
> Poor lad, I trust his jaw will heal well enough, and perhaps in a future chapter Loa and him will reconcile their friendship and we will get to see him in a more flattering light. I doubt that Vilkas will ever forgive him though, and if he does, it will be only for Loa's sake (ooh is that forshadowing I smell?). 
> 
> Well, that's all for now, toodles!


	29. The Old Amulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a happy little short, bit of a break from the gloom and anger of the last chapter. Hope you enjoy!

“What do you make these symbols out to be?” I ask Vilkas, tilting the amulet to and fro before the fire. 

We’d left Riften shortly after my business was concluded. The cursed necklace brought in a fair deal of gold, not as much as it was worth but enough to keep the guild for a little while. The only difficult part of leaving was sneaking past Delvin without getting roped into another job. Once we were safely away, I'd told Vilkas everything. To say the least, Brynjolf was fortunate that I'd waited to share.

“I’m not sure, it’s awfully tarnished. Looks to be silver.” He leans over my shoulder, studying the amulet we’d found in the tomb. 

“It almost looks like an Amulet of Mara.” He says, reaching out a hand to trace its faded edge.

“Ah, that would explain why it feels so healthy,” I say with a laugh, “I suppose I'll have to melt it down to resell it, no ones in the market for a subtle Amulet of Mara these days.” He grins and turns back to his dinner. I continue to examine the amulet with some amusement. 

“I almost wonder if the divines are trying to tell us something.” I tease, and he chokes on his soup. I giggle and rub his back helpfully as he regains his breath.

“I’m only joking, love.” 

“I.. we…” he stutters, face redding, “if you.. we just left Riften, but if you wanted to go back-” i laugh, surprised by his sudden shyness.

“I'm not forcing you down the aisle yet, my dear.” He regains his composure and smiles at me warmly.

“It’s not as if you'd be holding a knife to my back.” 

“No,but my Gran would be.” I grin and he shakes his head, eyes meeting mine with a sudden tenderness that makes me blush.

“Well, love, do you want to?”

“What? Marry?” Now it’s my turn to sputter. 

“Aye, do you not think i’d make a fine husband?”

“That's not what i… you’re …” I rub my temples and he laughs.

“You brought this on yourself, my dear.” He says with a small grin.

“Aye, i know. Damn shame that you’re so fun to tease.” 

“In all seriousness,” he starts, eyes meeting mine. 

“I can’t.” I say, without thinking. His eyes fill with hurt.

“It’s not that I don’t want to!” I continue quickly, reaching for his hand, “it’s just, I would want my family there, and the roads are so…”

“Dangerous?”

“Aye, with this war on and Alduin,” I sigh, “I know Skyrim will never be truly safe, and I’ll always have my enemies, but until I resolve things…”

“You don’t need to explain it to me, love, it’s ok if you aren’t there yet.” 

“But I am!” I say, face heating with embarrassment once again, “I want to marry you.” 

“You do?” 

“Of course!” I lean in closer, his hand still trapped in mine, “if you’d have me.” 

“My dear, I think I already have.” I laugh at his suggestive smile and lean against him.

“Then it’s settled. Once the world is saved and the war is over, we’ll be wed.” He says with such a warm smile that I can't help but kiss him.

The night grows colder, fall slowly yielding to winter, but i hardly feel it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends,  
> We are back to your regularly scheduled fluff! My other project is finally finished, so I should have a good bit of time to get some writing done! Who knows, I might even edit them before posting (Thank the Divines!) I hope all is well with you, have a lovely day!
> 
> Toodles!


	30. Winter Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important things are ahead, but for now...

Winter hits hard, dousing Whiterun in snow. Drifts reach past my waist in some areas, making travel difficult. The war has drawn to a bitter stalemate. No end in sight. 

Most days, i work the forge, trying and failing to discover the secrets of crafting dragon bone into armor. Eorlund tries to help, but his knowledge only extends so far, and this is unchartered territory for the both of us. 

One evening, i finally strap together a passable piece, forged of scales and light weight, as is my taste. I decide to test it with a hunt, and leave the forge feeling cautiously excited. If it can deflect a bears teeth without falling to bits, i daresay I'm on the right path. 

“You finished!” Njada says excitedly when i enter the mead hall.

“No quiet, I’ll need to test it out before i can say that. Have you seen Vilkas?”

“Just missed him, got called out on assignment, he left a note for you.” 

She hands me the letter and I read it quickly, he won't be gone long, but I’m so eager to test my new armor that i decide to go hunting regardless. 

“Well, when he returns, tell him I'm out hunting," I say, grabbing my bow, "does anyone want to come with me?” 

“I’ll go!” Farkas brightens considerably. The snow has made contracts few and far between, and most of the companions are bored out of their wits.

By the end of our hunt, the wind has set in with a fury, turning each exhale to aching ice. Loaded down with meat and hide, Farkas and I make it back to Jorrvaskr late that night, during that strange hour when the stars burn brighter than the hearthfires. 

I open the door to the mead hall quietly, relieved as the warmth of the kitchen fire washes over me. At the table, I spot Vilkas, slumped over in his chair, snoring softly. He must have been waiting up for us. I get a dreadful idea. I grin wickedly and nudge Farkas with an elbow, putting a finger to my lips. 

Creeping up behind him, I fill my hands with ice magic, letting the cold stain my fingertips blue. Once they are sufficiently chilled, I release the spell with a quiet wave. Quickly, before they thaw, I stick my hands under his armor and press them to his back. He wakes with a strangled squeal and I fall over in a fit of giggles. 

“Good evening, love!” I gasp through the tears. His glare sends me into another fit of laughter, and Farkas cackles from the doorway. 

Vilkas sends us another scathing look and stands in a huff. Grabbing his cloak, he marches out the door.

“Wait! Don’t be mad!” I call after him, scurrying to my feet. I shoot Farkas a questioning look.

“He’s always grumpy when he wakes.” He shrugs, and I hurry out the door. 

“Love? I’m sorry I-” I’m cut off when he grabs me by the waist, shoving a fistfull of snow down the back of my armor. I let out a surprised scream and turn to face him.

“Why, you sneaky bastard!” I say, wiggling in discomfort as the ice melts and creeps down my back in rivelts, making my armor stick and the cold burn. He laughs, face filled with smug delight.

“Good evening, love” He grins when the giggles subside. 

“Is it?” I tackle him into the snowbank. The cold is almost unbearable, but laughter still plays on our lips. When I hear the door to Jorrvaskr open, I still, pressing an icy finger to his lips. He nips at my hand playfully and I pull it away quickly.

“Shhh! Your brother approaches!” I hiss in his ear. We share a mischievous look and crouch in the shadows. 

“Come off it Vilky,” He calls, stepping into the light and casting his eyes around, “she was only teasing!” 

He starts when a snowball catches him in the chest. 

“Good throw!” I say, tossing another, Farkas dodges back behind a pillar, crouching to scoop some snow from the ground in an attempt to defend himself. I form another snowball, and throw it, catching the edge of the pole and sending a shower of snow over his head. His next snowball catches me in the arm and I laugh.

“You three are insufferable!” Aela cries, stepping outside with a blanket draped around her shoulders. From the doorway, the rest of the companions glare into the night. Evidently woken by our antics.We emerge from the shadows, covered in snow and aching from the cold.

“Sorry,” I say, grin betraying the lie. 

“Get inside before you lose a toe to frostbite.” She snaps, turning in a whirl of fluffy blanket and slamming the door behind. Farkas fights to hide a laugh. 

“What a fine welcome!” I say as we enter, peeling off layers of wet armor and gathering by the fire. Ria kindly hands us some spare blankets, despite the glare that Aela shoots her.

“And what fine thanks I get for staying up to wait for you!” Vilkas teases, sitting on the floor by the hearth with a quiet huff.

“Is that what you were doing? I thought you were waiting to lecture us.” I say, plopping myself into his lap. Farkas sits beside us, blanket wrapped around him like a cloak. 

My tunic is soaked, and the fire heats it quickly, drawing thin wisps of steam and scorching my skin. I wrap a blanket around us and lean back against Vilkas, his arms wrap around me instinctively. Aela scoffs down at us.

“Consider yourself fortunate that I don’t take on the duty!” She snaps, “Do you know what time it is?”

“No, but from your tone I take it that it’s late.” I respond, rather bravely I might add. Her scowl deepens.

“If you’d seen the look on Vilky’s face, you wouldn’t be so...” Farkas cuts himself off when her angry gaze turns to him. 

“Now, if you three ice brains are well and done, I’m going back to bed!” I bite my lip to hide a giggle. 

“I take it the hunt went well?”

“Aye, my armor is working well. I just need to weave it a bit tighter, and i think i’ll have it.” I say, pulling the wet garment onto my lap and examining its craftsmanship. 

“Irresponsible of you to get it soaked on your first test.” He teases.

“What? I treated the leather!” Eorlund showed me a fantastic method for waterproofing, and though the cloth pieces, stiching, and ties underneath the scales are soaked, the leather is still fine and dry. 

“And how went your contract?”

“Well enough, Ria did most of the work.”

“As usual, you lazy old man!” I tease and he laughs brightly. 

“Why are you so silent, brother?” Vilkas says suddenly, turning to Farkas. He quickly folds up the letter he was reading.

“It is most unusual,” i agree, “what are you reading?”

“Aye, unusual indeed. I didn't know you could read.” Vilkas interjects and i smack his arm playfully. Farkas smiles at us.

“It’s nothing.”

“You wouldn't have hid it if it were!” I tease in a singsong voice. I make a playful swipe for the note and he hides it away in his pocket. 

“Could it be a  _ love  _ letter?” I ask, eyes full of mischief, “has the natchmaker himself finally made a match?” He shakes his head, face pale. Vilkas gasps dramatically.

“I do believe it is, my love! Tell us brother, who’s the lucky soul?”

“It’s not-“

“Lying is not honorable, shield brother!” I say with a friendly laugh. His face reddens and he turns away.

“Alright, love, i think we’ve tormented my brother enough.” Vilkas says, stifling a yawn. Farkas nods comically in agreement and I pout.

“Nonsense!” I say, and Farkas starts to rise to leave. I heave a dramatic sigh.

“Fine then, keep your secrets. But remember, it is only fair that we pry in your business, seeming as you take it upon yourself to pry in everyone else’s.” Vilkas and i share a laugh. Farkas smiles down at us and shakes his head. 

“Aela was right, you two are ice brains.” 

“Why you bastard!” I tease. Ijump up, and fall into a mock fighting stance, “why i ought to fight you!” 

“Go the fuck to bed!” Aela screams from below and to my credit, I try not to laugh. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we know not to wake up Aela! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter, it was so much fun to write! Stay tuned for some serious business in the coming chapters, after all destiny waits for no one, and our little Loa is preparing to face hers... 
> 
> Toodles!


	31. No Stopping War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa has to make a decision...

“The sides are too even, the war will never end at this rate!” Vignar says, frustration coloring his voice. He’s not alone, by mid winter, I'd realised that the Jarl can not be swayed. There is only one option, to kill Alduin, I must end the war. 

“Be that as it may, we do not take sides. We’re not mercenaries.” I argue, rubbing my temples. This evening, jorrvaskr is filled with grim silence, a stark contrast to its usual fare. 

“We can't stand idle forever, harbinger!” 

“Aye, and i’ve no qualms about any of you joining on your own conscience, you know I would never stop you, but i won't ask anyone to fight who doesn't wish it.” 

“We can't sit idle while-“ Aela holds up a hand, demanding silence. We turn to her expectantly.

“The way I see it, we have three options,” Aela cuts in, “kill the jarl, fight, or force them to make peace.”

To tell it plainly, I had thought of killing the Jarl. I’d gone so far as to put on my old shrouded armor, sneak into the palace and draw back a poisoned arrow. But, even as i knew that I wouldn’t be caught, that the death of this one arrogant man would save countless others, i faltered. Dishonorable i may be, but Balgruuf was known to me, had made me Thane when i was but a shadow cloaked, low life assassin. That title of honor had started me on the path I led today. It felt wrong to kill him in his sleep. He may not be a man of great honor, kindness, or intelligence, but did he not deserve at least the dignity to raise a blade in his own defense? I’ve grown too soft. 

“I thought that half a dozen warriors couldn't end a war.” Farkas says.

“We can't, but the dragonborn…” she turns to me, “Harbinger, whoever you fight for is sure to win.” 

“Loa is not a weapon! We could force a compromise.”Vilkas says.

“No,” I say quietly, “when has that ever worked? Make peace for a few years, only for our descendants to die in the same war. Alduin is not of this time, if he was killed all those years ago, people wouldn't be dying today.” 

“And you’d have never made it out of Helgen.” Ria points out. 

“Aye, but it does us no good to dwell on the past. I will fight for whichever side we chose, but I will not leave this conflict for my children to endure.” Vilkas’ eyes dart to mine and he blushes. Despite myself, I crack a small smile. 

“ _ We _ decide? But you’d be the one fighting.” Njada says.

“I will not fight unless everyone is on board. Imperials, Stormcloaks, I care little for either.”

“The stormcloaks are-“

“No, Vignar,” I cut him off, “even you must admit their faults.”

“We could challenge the Jarl.” Vilkas suggests.

“But what danger would that put our city in? Leaving it without leadership in the midst of war.” 

“Then we fight.” Aela says.

“No Aela,  _ I _ fight.” 

“We won't let you do this alone, you need help.”

“And Whiterun needs protection, more than those foolish guards can grant.” 

“Love-”

“I can win this,” I say simply, eyes meeting Vilkas’, “I won’t be alone, after all neither army would be foolish enough to let their prized dragonborn fall in battle.” 

“At least let me go with you.” He says, voice a challenge of stubborn pride.

“I won't stop you.” He sighs in relief and takes my hand, giving it a light squeeze. 

“I hate to ruin the mood, but we still don't know who you’re fighting for.” Njada says, Vignar starts to speak but I cut him off again.

“We must consider this carefully, and put all personal opinions aside, what we choose today will change skyrim forever.”

“Then let us choose wisely,” Roa says, reaching over to steal a piece of paper from Farkas’ sketchbook. He hands her a bit of charcoal to write with.

“On one hand, we have the imperials, what flaws do they carry?”

“They persecute us for worshipping Talos!” Vignar says with indigence. 

“And they follow the Thalmor, whose actions have hurt hundreds of innocent people. To fight for them would mean a continuation of that injustice.” I chime in. 

“And their strengths?”

“They are fair to their soldiers and show mercy in battle.” I say. She writes quickly.

“Says who?” Vignar says.

“Those I've met, on both sides.” 

“And the Stormcloaks?” Ria interrupts.

“They will give us freedom.” Vignar says.

“Aye, and they do not take orders from the Thalmor. But, their treatment of other races can not stand,” i say, “to fight for them would be to allow prejudice.” 

“Then it seems we are at a stalemate.” She says as she finishes writing. She holds the paper out to Athis, who passes it down the table to me. I stare at the two discrete columns. The fate of my land rests in those smudged black lines.

“If we fight with the Stormcloaks, we would at least have a chance of changing their prejudices.” Vignar says, and some nod in agreement.

“And we could drive the thalmor from our lands.” Brill continues.

“Then we shall put it to a vote.” I say after a long pause. 

“I vote-“

“An anonymous vote, Vignar.” I reiterate. Farkas begins tearing strips of paper from his sketchbook. 

“Waste of paper.” Torvar grumbles.

“Not if it gives everyone the chance to speak true.” I say, standing to fetch a bowl, quills, and ink. 

The are votes counted, and found all in favor of the Stormcloaks. I can't say that I'm surprised. Vignar is our shield brother; I don't doubt that many voted for his sake alone.

“Are you certain?” I ask once more, directing my gaze to Athis and Ria, “their victory could mean significant hardships for you.” 

“I will support my shield brother.” Ria says, smiling at Vignar. I nod slowly and turn to Athis.

“Skyrim had never been welcoming to my kind, imperial victory wouldn't change that. And besides, if it doesn't work out,  _ you  _ can kill the high king.” He says. I smile at his bluntness; few would dare utter such bold words about one they plan to put on the throne. 

“Then it’s settled. I end the war, and the companions stay out of it.” I sit back in my chair and turn my attention to my untouched plate, long gone cold.

“Damn that was exhausting, let’s get some mead!” Torvar says, and we let out a tense chuckle.

After dinner, I slip downstairs to pack. Winterhold is far colder than Whiterun, situated as it is, so I must bring as many warm clothes and blankets as I can carry. 

“Love?” Vilkas asks from the doorway.

“Yes?” I say, not looking up from examining my best set of dragonscale armor. I’ll need to look the part, like a legend born from song.

“Are you disappointed in our choice?” He asks, stepping closer, I set my pack on the table and sigh. 

“No… yes… I would have been dissatisfied any way the vote fell.” I fall into a chair and he takes his usual seat at our table. 

“I may be a warrior, but I am no soldier,” I admit. 

“Perhaps not, but I hardly think it will matter to the Stormcloaks,” He looks over my armor with interest, “especially if you wear this.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” I jump up and hurry into my bedroom, ruffling through the wardrobe.

“I made you this, can't have you wearing companions armor in a war, can we?” I say, heaving the heavy dragonbone into his lap. His eyes light up.

“I thought you were only working in scaled armor.” I smile as he examines my craftsmanship. 

“Only for those who prefer their armor light. I could hardly hand Farkas a set of scaled armor, he wouldn’t know how to fight without all that extra weight,” he smirks and I giggle, “I’m afraid I haven't enchanted it yet, not sure what to do for it.”

“It’s beautiful.” He says. I lean down to kiss him, laughing when I accidentally bump my knee on the armor, though it smarts. 

“When do we leave?” He asks as I finish packing my gear.

“Tomorrow at first light, make sure to pack warm.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends,  
> This was a difficult chapter to write. The companions are supposed to stay out of wars, so having them decide the fate of Skyrim is almost a sweet irony. I think that they would've fought with Loa if she'd asked, but she wanted to keep them out of it. She's wiser than she lets on. Alas, Vilkas would never let his love carry the burden of war alone. 
> 
> ... ok, I'm done being dramatic now haha. I hope you're all doing well, and that you enjoyed this chapter. More chaos to come!
> 
> Toodles!


	32. The Legend Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: ANGST

“Well, that was a rousing speech.” I whisper to Vilkas, who suppresses a grin. We stand before Ulfric Stormcloak, the future high king, and yet I am unimpressed. Flowery words hardly stand to show his true character. 

“Who are you?” he turns to us, as though he hadn’t meant for us to catch every word prior. 

“I am the dragonborn Madaloa, and I’ve come to join your cause.”

“Ahh, I recognise you, Helgen.” I nod solemnly. 

“If you’ve put your criminal past behind, you’re welcome to join.” I bristle, ending up in Helgen was one of the few times I wasn’t committing crimes. 

“Your reputation precedes you,” his adviser says, “but you’ll still need to prove yourself.”

“Prove herself? She is the dragonborn, what more proof could you need?” Vilkas says gruffly. Galmar tactfully ignores him.

“I will conquer any challenge you put before me.” I say, filling my voice with pride and arrogance. I figure that if it is a legend they want, I’ll act the part. 

“That’s the spirit. Go to serpent stone island and defeat an ice wraith. That will prove your strength in battle.”

“An ice wraith? That’s it? You realise that I have defeated countless threats, cleared draugr from the depths of the fearsest crypts, defeated enough dragons to clothe myself in their bones, and to test my mettle you send me after a simple ice wraith?” 

“It’s tradition!” He says, amusement coloring his tone. I stand a little taller and square my shoulders.

“I’ll not argue, if it's an ice wraith you need, it will be done. Expect me back within a fortnight.” We take our leave. 

“How’d I do?” I ask Vilkas as we cut a path to the shore.

“You played their expectations admirably,” he says, “you’re getting better at hiding your true face.” I laugh.

“Not by much, I’d imagine.” He smiles and shakes his head in agreement. 

“I’ll have to swim some of the way, good thing I packed oiled hides.” I say.

“ _ We’ll  _ have to swim.” He argues.

“No, just me. It’s fair cold out. Better that you stay on the shore and make a fire. If we both catch hypothermia, Aela will never let us live it down.” 

“Loa…”

“Vilky…” I tease and he scowls at me. 

“It’s only an ice wraith, I’ll be back before you know it!” 

The journey takes less time than I expected. We reach the point where land can carry us no farther, and make camp. The sun is beginning to wane. 

“I’ll go in the morning.” I say, unpacking the tent as Vilkas starts a fire. 

“Good, have you any cold resist potions?”

“Naturally, I never travel without them come winter.” 

The ice wraith is an easy target, and the battle is over before it begins. I take it down with my bow, and though it never had a chance to bite me, the cold is still rather painful. Swimming in Skyrims waters is a chilly venture in the summer, but in the winter it is down right torturous, even with hot nord blood running through my veins. I hurriedly collect its teeth and, steeling myself, slip back into the water. 

Back at camp, I strip quickly, teeth chattering and wrap myself in a blanket.

“Bit cold, eh love?” I shoot him a scathing look and huddle in my blanket. 

“Don't be that way, petals,” he scoops me up and plops me in his lap like a sack of potatoes, I crack a smile.

“A true gentleman would help warm his lady up after such a voyage.” I say, batting my eyes. 

“Is that so?” He whispers in my ear. I giggle when he plants a kiss on my neck.

“ I take it your trial went well.” I let out a startled breath as a soldier approaches, drawing my blanket tighter about my shoulders. Vilkas reaches for his blade, eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” He asks, I slide off his lap and turn away to pull my wet dress back over my head from underneath my blanket. The cold makes me flinch. When I return to the fire, the soldier has come to the fireside. I recognize him from the palace.

“Galmar sent me. Did you think we'd just take your word for it?”

“I thought the Stormcloaks had more honor than to spy on their recruits.” I shoot back. 

“They say you’re the dragonborn, can you blame us for questioning your honesty? Rumors spread fast.”

“Indeed they do, but that hardly warrants eavesdropping. They could have sent a warrior to accompany me and ensure my honesty.” He shrugs.

“I’m just following orders. And besides, Galmar wanted to know what the deal was with your  _ follower _ .” He smiles a little, looking between us. 

“That is no one’s business but my own!” I snap, “and you may tell Galmar that he’s fortunate i am the forgiving type. My trial is finished, now if you have no other business, I'd ask you to leave so i may put on some dry clothes and return to my job!”

“Fair enough,” he says, standing with a groan, “fight well, shield-sister.” He nods respectfully and takes his leave. 

“Damn it!” I say, kicking a rock into the fire.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Now you're a political target. Once word gets out that the dragonborn has taken a lover, you'll be in constant danger.” I say, pacing around our camp. His eyes follow me calmly.

“That was always a risk. Did you think we could keep it a secret forever?”

“No, but that was before! This is a war, Vilkas, they’ll send trained soldiers after you, not just some disgruntled victim of thievery!” 

“Loa, calm down!”

“This is serious Vilkas!” 

“I can handle myself!”

“This isnt a game!”

“Gods damn it Loa, do you think i don't know that?” He snaps, “everytime you leave my side, every second you're gone I can hardly breathe for fear that you won't come back. There’s always going to be danger, and I can't protect you from it, but by the divines, that won't stop me from loving you!” 

“Vilkas-“ 

“No, Loa, you can’t keep holding yourself accountable for everyone's safety. I know the risks, and if anything happens, you're not to blame.”

“Yes i am!”

“You cant save everyone!” His voice rises, face flushed with color. My eyes fill with angey tears.

“I have to!” My voice shakes, “i've lost so many, Tree, Kodlak, the Brotherhood, i can't lose anyone else” 

His face softens. He wraps his arm around me. I hide my face in his shirt, tears burning tracks of ice down my face. 

“It’s not your fault they died, you couldn't have stopped it.”

“What if i could? I should have been there!” I cry.

“Love,” he takes my chin and lifts my face, forcing me to meet his eyes, “there was nothing you could have done.” 

He holds me for a long time, until my tears dry and heart calms. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends,   
> Sorry for the heavy chapter, I'm afraid the next one isn't much lighter, but I promise we'll get through it, and so will our little Loa! 
> 
> Hope you're all doing well, stay tuned for more chaos!
> 
> Toodles


	33. The Battle of Whiterun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: More Angst

My first true battle. They say it like it’s an honor. We’d taken the jagged crown, no more difficult than my usual fare. Ulfric had been impressed, said he thought I was destined for glory. As if there’s glory to be found in war.

  
  


“Just run!” I beg, sword held before me like a flag of truce, “you can't win. Run!” 

But they don't. I’m the piece of gold that breaks the scale. The world will never be the same. The battle is easy, the guilt is not. We take the gates without losing a single man. Cutting down guards and soldiers alike. True Nords never back down, but still I beg their surrender, and weep as I am forced to kill my friends. Guards who I had laughed with, pranked, and teased. Their familiar voices. Fading in the wake of a scream. 

Amidst the flames, I stop, hearing a soft cry. The rest of the Companions had barricaded the civilians in Jorrvaskr, at my order, but they missed a child. I crouch down where she hides beneath an over turned stall.

“Braith?”

“Make it stop,” she sobs. This child with a fighter’s heart, once brave enough to challenge the Dragonborn herself, reduced to begging. 

“Come with me.” I gently take her arm.

“What are you doing, Dragonborn?” My commander yells through a spray of blood. I shield the girl's eyes from the carnage. Vilkas has my back, cutting down those who would harm us.

“Getting her to safety.”

“Forget it! That's an order.” 

As if I was known for obedience. 

“Dragonborns do not take orders!” Let them think me arrogant, I've more pressing matters to worry about.

We lead her to Jorrvaskr. I cut a path with one arm, hiding the trembling child behind my shield with the other. 

“Aela! Open up, I have a child.” She opens the door, weapon drawn. I push Braith inside.

“Lock it behind, keep them safe.” She gives me a tight nod, taking in the look of anguish on my face, and does as I say.

We race to Dragons Reach, the taste of smoke heavy in the air. 

  
  
  


“You, a stormcloak? I’d thought better of you.” The Jarl kneels before my blade, coughing blood.

“Call off your guards, you can not win.” I say, voice steady as a song. My commander gives me an approving look. Vilkas looks more solemn than I’ve ever seen him.

The Jarl turns to his second in command.

“Tell them to stand down.” He spits, rising on his shaking legs. I school my face into an emotionless mask that convinces no one.

“Is this what you wanted?” He sneers at me, “to kill your own kin?”

“I want only to free them.” I reply. It’s the mantra i've repeated since dawn, the lie i hold together so I don't fall apart. I ask Vilkas to stay behind, make sure the rest of the Companions are safe.

And they send me to Ulfric. A ride of victory they call it. ‘Here, take my horse and tell the world of our glory.’ As if there is any glory to be found in killing those with no choice but to fight. I ride hard through the night, stopping only to give the tired beast a break. Long enough to feed him potions of health and stamina, to caress his sweaty neck and whisper that we’re almost there.

Almost there, I tell myself. Almost. 

At the stables, I dismount in a hurry, nearly twisting an ankle on the cobblestone, legs turned to jelly from the long ride. 

“Bathe and feed him well,” I instruct the soldier that takes the tired beast by the reigns, “he’s earned the luxury of peace.” 

And I wish I could say the same of myself. Almost there. Almost. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! 
> 
> Another sad one, sorry. I promise the next chapter will be more lighthearted, albeit not entirely as fun as before the war. Alas, the battle rages on. 
> 
> Poor Loa, I do feel bad for putting her through hell. Perhaps I'll give her a break soon, but we'll see where the story leads us, as always. 
> 
> Hope your days are going splendidly! Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Toodles!


	34. The War Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loa hates the soldier's life

“I’m starting to see why Vilkas hates riding,” I say, dismounting with the elegance of a drowning skeever pulling itself from a lake.

In the months following the battle, id rose through the ranks, to no one's surprise. Ulfric takes every opportunity to show off his prized dragonborn, showering me in titles as meaningless as the deaths of my kin.

Vilkas has learned not to ask when I return from late night meetings with Galmar and the King; I was demoted once for sharing top secret information with him. They threatened to have me flogged, and I told Ulfric to shove his secrecy policies up his royal ass,for my beloved is more trustworthy than his top officials. Galmar didn't take kindly to my tone, but to have me publicly punished would lower morale, so they settled for the embarrassment of a demotion. I would have told them where their fancy titles belonged, had Vilkas not dragged me out of the castle. Suffice to say, he doesn't ask anymore.

Today we are to meet at the camp outside of Markarth. Vilkas went on ahead with a company of reinforcements while I received further orders. 

Leaving my borrowed horse with the others, I began my usual routine. Orders can wait. I find it more important to put my skills to use. Healing those I can, lessening the pain of those I can't. 

“You're the dragonborn,” a young girl gasps as I examine her arm, “it is an honor to call you shield-sister.” 

“Mmhm, can you move your arm?” She shakes her head and winces when I probe her swollen shoulder.

“It’s dislocated, I'll have to reset it before healing,” I hand her a bottle of wine, “drink quickly, it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” 

She screams when I pop the joint back into place. I feel her shoulder to make sure it is set right, before healing it. I use my magic sparingly, knowing it is needed elsewhere. 

“Dragonborn?” A courier calls from the entrance of the tent. 

“Yes?” I say in an impatient tone, turning my eyes on the next soldier, a boy barely old enough to shave, dressed in armor too large for him. His leg is a mess, infection already set in.

“It’s just that they said to get you if anything happened to your lover-“

“What?” I drop the clothe i had been holding, and whirl around, “Where is he?! Bring me to him.” 

The courier points to a tent, the commander's tent in fact, and I run across camp, blind with worry.

“What happened?” I say as I throw back the curtain. Vilkas sits on a cot at the edge of the tent. I drop down beside him, hands darting over his body to check for wounds.

“I’m alright, it was just an arrow-“ he says, trying to calm me.

“Where?”

“Left arm, I'm alright, love, the healer has already seen me.” 

“Take off your shirt, let me see.”

“Loa!” His face reddens, eyes darting to someone behind my back. 

“Commander,” I say in greeting, not bothering to turn as I attempt to get a look at Vilkas’ wound without making him immodest. 

“Dragonborn, I trust you are well.”

“Aye, but I'd be better if I knew why Vilkas was sitting in your tent, and wounded no less.” 

“Imperial ambush.” He answers shortly. 

“You should see the other guy.” Vilkas jokes, attempting to make me smile. It doesn't work.

“The healer said he’ll be out of fighting order for a month.” The commander informs. I shoot him a gratefully smile and turn on Vilkas.

“Let me see,” I say, crossing my arms and giving him a stern look. He smiles at my act. 

“My dear, that would be improper.”

“If you don't take your shirt off, I’ll cut the sleeve.” I say stubbornly and he laughs.

“So pushy.” He pulls it off, wincing when the fabric bunches over the wound. I unwrap the bandages carefully, and examine the stitches.

“No a bad job, but i can see the healer was no mage.” I call magic to my hand and heal it fully. 

“There, the wound was deep, so it will take about a week for the muscles to relearn how to move right, but it’s better than a month, no?” I say, handing him his shirt. 

“Thanks,  _ petals _ .”

“Anytime,  _ kitten. _ Now, explain how I let you go off on your own for two days and you somehow end up injured?” I tease. 

“Says the woman who I let travel alone for three days and ended up clearing an enemy camp single handedly and nearly lost an eye in the process.”

“Nearly is not the word i would use, that knife didn't even get close!” I smile for what feels like the first time in weeks.

“Dragonborn, ill need to debrief you,” and the moment is gone. I stand solemnly and speak.

“After i finish healing the wounded.” 

“We need a camp cleared near whiterun, Galmar thinks they’ll try to retake the city if we let them too close.” He continues, ignoring me.

“I’ll clear your camp, if you spare me some time afterwards to tend to my other duties.” I say. It’s true that I’ve neglected my guilds and factions for far too long. If i get one more letter from Cicero with all those creepy little death drawings, i may lose my mind. J’zargo wants some new scroll tested, Vex needs a tomb heist done, and the companions have been more than patient. 

“We can give you a fortnight.” I turn to leave.

“That’s fair enough,” It isn't nearly enough time to do what i must, but it’s more time off than ive had since joining the rebellion. 

Once I’ve finished healing those I can, I return to the commander's tent to get further instructions. 

“Come back alive.” Vilkas says when I leave the tent. He stands by the fire, looking rather sullen that he can’t go.

“I will. Don't get into any trouble.” I say, striding forward to embrace him. We press our foreheads together and mutter a quick prayer to the gods. A normal routine for us, but it draws many strange glances from the other soldiers. I grin at him.

“I’ll be back by sunset, and then we can go home for a while.” He smiles.

  
  


“Hey Madaloa?” Ralof whispers. I was happy to find my old friend alive. Missions are a little more bearable with a familiar face around. 

“Yeah?”

“Let’s do Dragonborn Comes.” I groan comidicially.

“I do that once to get out of a sticky situation, and now everytime we need a distraction it’s your first thought?” I say, a bit whinier than I intended.

“Come on! It’s so dramatic!” I sigh deeply and rub my temple. 

“We are not doing Dragonborn Comes!”

I cant belive they talked me into doing Dragonborn Comes! I think to myself, drawing the ragged cloak closer about my shoulders to hide my armor. It doesnt work most of the time, terrible actress that i am. I grumble to myself and try to get into character.

“Help! Help!” I squeal in a falsely pitched voice as I stumble toward the enemy camp.

“What happened?” The guard outside of camp moves to take my arm, but i recoil as though frightened. Cant have him feeling my armor under the cloak.

“Bandits!” I cry in a terrified voice, “they said they'd kill me if I didn’t deliver a message to your leader.” 

I stumble toward the center of their camp, drawing as much attention as possible. 

“What message?” The guard asks, his face unreadable. I'd better prepare myself to cast a shielding spell.

“They said-“ I pretend to cry, “they said resistance is futile, the Dragonborn Comes.” 

“What?” His face pales, I'm grateful for the darkness that hides my real face.

“What does that even mean? Please help me” I wail. The guard steps back, look of terror on his face. 

“Commander! Come quick.” Someone yells, but it’s too late. The first volley of arrows hits, sending a wave of panic through the encampment. I’m about to cast the spell, when the guard turns to me.

“Come with me, miss, you’ll be safe in the commander’s tent.” Im shocked as the poor fool leads me right where i needed to go.

In the tent, the commander looks at me in shock as the guard rushes back outside to fight. I draw my sword and step into the light.

“Nice boy, if a bit daft.” I comment, “I do hope he doesn't die, but then again, that is up to you.” His eyes dart to his weapon across the tent. No way he could reach it in time.

“Surrender. Call off your men, and they will live.” 

“And if i don't?” I hold the blade to his throat as his eyes burn with rage. 

“You die, and my men slaughter every one of them.”

“You're a demon!” He spits, terror evident in his voice, try as he might to hide it. I force my lips to form a cruel smile.

“I’m the dragonborn.”

In the end, he surrenders. I heal those who were hurt, including enemy soldiers. The foolish boy took a deep cut to the arm, he trembles in fear when I heal the wound.

“Why?” He asks as I finish tying his hands together, knowing they’ll sit in prison until the war ends. Not a damn thing i can do about it, but it’s better than death, and I’ll see that they are treated fairly. I make no answer. 

“Nice work, Dragonborn!” Ralof laughs, “we didn't lose a single man.” 

“We have this boy to thank for that. You may not think it, but your actions saved the lives of all of your companions.” I turn back to the frightened soldier. I’ll need to give instructions to have him jailed separately, his fellow warriors probably wouldn't share my sentiment. 

Back at camp, we celebrate our victory. The prisoners are transported to a nearby fort, and I instruct the commander to see to their fair treatment. He gives me a dark look, but says he’ll do as I bide. Over the months, I've found that playing an arrogant warrior gets me farther than acting myself. 

I dont stay to celebrate. Vilkas and I leave camp as soon as we’re able, planning a path to Whiterun. Fortunately, it is close. I’ll be able to enjoy our time off without needing to travel far. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I have so many plans for our imaginary friends, I can't wait to share them with you all :)
> 
> Toodles!


	35. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the companions! 
> 
> Warning: drunken rabble

We walk side by side on the road to Whiterun, deep in thought. I see him cast me a worried look as I trudge along. We’ve made progress since I joined, I almost think the war will be finished come late fall. Less than a year, i muse, i should've ended this long ago. How many deaths could i have prevented had i acted faster…

I’m started out of my thoughts by a quiet curse. I look over to see Vilkas, trying and failing to balance on a log.

“What are you doing?” I ask, hiding a smirk at his clumsiness.

“I figured one of us had to act a fool.” He grins down at me, misplacing another step and nearly tumbling off. I grab his arm to steady him, laughing a little. 

“I suppose i haven't been myself lately.” I admit. 

“You're always you, you just haven't been as happy.” 

“Sorry.” I say. 

“What in Talos name for? Do you stop loving me when I'm grumpy?”

“No, but you're grumpy most of the time,” I tease. He shrugs playfully and hops down from the log.

“Loa, i love being with you, even when you're…”

“An arrogant Dragonborn?” I fill in. He laughs and shakes his head.

“Preoccupied.” He finishes. I smile to myself. 

  
  
  


“Petals!” Ria squeals in delight when we enter Jorrvaskr. I run down the steps and hug her fiercely. 

“How have you all been?” I ask, turning to give Njada the same treatment. She grumbles; Njada’s never been a hugger, and truthfully neither have I, but I've missed my friends. We’ve been gone long enough that spring has started to waken the trees from their deep slumber. The gildergreen is awash with the first traces of color, and the air carries a warmth, though snow still clings to the soil in some places, muddied with melt.

“Where’s my hug?” Torvar asks with a grin.

“You just lost it!” I punch his shoulder playfully. I let out a surprised squeak when Farkas picks me up and twirls me around.

“Put me down!” I laugh. He sets me on my feet and grins.

“Harbinger! How goes the war?” He asks, turning to hug his brother.

“Pick me up and i'll kick your ass!” Vilkas says goodnaturedly, casting his arms around his giant of a brother. 

“Where’s Aela?” I ask, looking around, “and Athis?”

“Out on assignment, there’s a bear in someone's house out in Markarth.” 

“When did they leave?”

“This morning.”

“Damn, we won't be able to see them,” i say disappointed, “we’ve only got two weeks off. Vilkas got himself shot.” I say, sending him a teasing smile. 

“Where’d you get hurt?” Farkas asks, looking his brother over with concern. 

“Left arm, it’s nothing, just need to take it slow for a few more days.”

“So, you couldn't beat me up even if you wanted to?!” Farkas yells, picking up his brother like a sack of potatoes and hugging him hard enough to break a rib. 

“Put me down, ice brain!” He scowls and we all laugh. 

“Hardly kind to make fun of an injured man.” I say with mock sternness. Farkas shrugs.

“He probably deserves it.” Ria teases. 

“Can't argue with that.” I reply, fighting to hide a grin.

“Hey!” Vilkas says, scowl deepening. He crosses his arms with a dramatic huff. I giggle and lean up to plant a kiss on his cheek. 

As soon as my friends permit, I take some time to write to my other guilds. Since joining the stormcloaks, I've spent a small fortune on post. Tonight I write quickly, hardly taking time to let the ink dry before moving on to the next letter. I catch my associates up on my whereabouts and try to fit whatever tasks I can into my tentative schedule. 

There's no time to make it to Dawnstar and back before I'm needed at camp, so I reassure the Brotherhood that I'll speak with Mother next time I pass through. J’zargo was smart enough to send his scroll to Windhelm after I wrote him last month to inform him that I wouldn't be in Winterhold for a while. The courier will redirect my letters to Whiterun, so I can expect further instructions regarding how to test it within a few days. It feels like some kind of shielding spell, but knowing J’Zargo, there is some hairbrained twist. Best to wait for his next letter. 

Next I write Vex to decline the job. She said it was a deep tomb, and I've no time for getting lost in a draugr pit. I decide to send along a box of loot I've taken during stormcloak raids as an apology. Mostly rings and other jewelry, worth a good deal, it should keep them going in my absence. 

And once business is settled, I pull the candle closer and write to Gran. I tell her all I've done since my last letter. Tales of raids and marching, battles and giants. Despite these harsh words, I implore her not to worry. It’s nothing I can't handle. 

By the time I finish, my hand is cramped and stained with ink. It’s later than i thought, sometime in the early morning judging by the shadows, and Vilkas snores softly from the bed. I stretch my sore back and change quickly into a nightshirt. 

Sleep doesn't come easily anymore. Not even when I'm tired enough to collapse after a long march or skirmish. Whenever I close my eyes, the darkness reminds me of death. I imagine the faces of those I've lost, friends and strangers who I couldn't heal. I'm haunted by those I've killed. Still, it is better with Vilkas around. Even in sleep his arms wrap around me, drawn to my warmth. It takes hours to fall asleep and morning comes too soon, as it always tends to do. 

“Good morning, love.” Vilkas whispers. I grumble and pull him closer. He laughs softly. “You said to wake you before noon.”

“I'm an idiot.” I mumble, burying my face in his neck with eyes shut stubbornly against the sunlight.

“Come now, Loa,” he says, throwing back the blankets, “what will Torvar say if we’re late for breakfast.” I yawn and stretch like a cat. He hops out of bed with too much energy for someone who just woke up.

“Nothing that isn't true.” I grin up at him and he shakes his head at me. 

“Don't make me drag you out of bed, dear.”

“Mmmh, don't tempt me with a good time.” I wiggle my eyebrows and he laughs. 

“We’ve a contract in Riverwood.” He reminds me. 

“Ugh,” i groan, sliding out of bed in the most dramatic fashion possible. He rolls his eyes playfully and I begin to pull on my armor. I wash the ink stains from my fingers and face, though they leave an unfortunate bluish stain that looks like a bruise, and clean my teeth. 

“What's the contract?”

“Ria said they requested you for the job. Need to scare some sense into a woodcutter.”

“Simple enough, what for?.” I ask as we head to the dining hall.

“Word is, he’s been getting handsy with the barmaids.” He answers, grinning down at me, “you've built quite the reputation as a defender of honor.” I snort. 

“At least it will be an entertaining job.” 

“Ahh, the lovebirds finally left their nest!” Torvar yells from the other end of the table as we take our usual seats. 

“How's the hangover?” Ria yells in his ear. He winces.

“Thanks shield sister!” I smile brightly at her and she gives me a thumbs up. 

The contract was easy, unsurprisingly. The creep had the audacity to laugh when I warned him not to harass the town's ladies. Long story short, I broke his jaw. 

“When are you going to learn to wrap your knuckles before going out to fight?” Vilkas scolds me as we walk back to Whiterun. 

“You’re pretty when you’re grumpy!” I laugh. It might have been wise to mention that the townsfolk bought me a few rounds to celebrate my victory. Damn argonian wine. You’d think I’d be wiser than to drink it. 

“And you’re pretty stupid when you’re drunk.” 

“You loooove me!” I giggle. 

I try to hop up on a rock and fail miserably, scuffing my knees on the way down.

“Owwiieee!” I cry. Vilkas shakes his head and hauls me to my feet. I stumble like a newborn calf and laugh at his tired expression. He sighs deeply and sweeps me off my feet, making my head spin.

“Hellllooo handsome!” I giggle and throw my arms around his neck. He rolls his eyes.

“You don’t gotta” I hiccup “carry me!”

“You can barely stand,” he says gruffly. I shrug goofily and smile up at him, swinging my feet.

“I wanna marry you.” I sigh dreamily. He fights to keep a stern face.

“Let’s go to riririfitn!” I slur, tugging on his shoulder to try and get him to change directions.

“The priest would hardly sanction a marriage when one of the participants is in your state.”

“You talk fancy.” I murmur, tracing his jawline with my fingertip. 

“Thank you.” 

“Are we there yet?” I whine. He shakes his head.

“Howb out now?”

“No, love. Whiterun is two hours away, and more if you keep acting a fool.”

“You can't carry me two ours!” I slur, struggling to get down, “em too heavy! It’ll hurt your arm”

“My arm feels fine, besides you’re not that heavy.”

“Uh huh! Like a bear!” I say and give a little growl. For some reason, I find this hilarious and cackle loudly in his ear. He winces from the proximity and I manage to tumble out of his arms.

“Ha!” I say stumbling to my feet, “can walk! See!”

He rolls his eyes.

“You're more trouble than you're worth.” He teases.

“That’s not what you said last night when i was su- woah!” He cuts me off by lifting me and tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. 

“Imma bear! Im gonna bite you!” I say, giving a little growl. He chuckles tiredly and keeps walking.

“Pha! Your armor’s gross!” I say, spitting, “need ta clean it!”

“It’s not made to be eaten, love.” 

“S’quiter’s talk! You're nota milk drinker!” 

“What happened?” I tilt my head to look at the new voice. Our shield friends are here!

“Hi Ria! I fell down!” I shout in Vilkas’ ear. 

“Drunk?” Farkas asks.

“Very.” Vilkas responds.

“Am not!” I say, struggling to get down, “I can walk and everything!” 

“What are you guys doing out here?” Vilkas asks.

“Tracking a bear.” Ria answers, lifting her bow in demonstration.

“Ooh bear! Imma bear!” I say, helpfully. 

“Just how much did she drink?”

“Not much, but it was that wine she likes. The giant riding stuff.”

“Giant? Where?!” 

“Don't even think about it!” Vilkas says, tightening his grip on my waist.

“I wasnt! My gran’d kill me!”

“Gran?” Ria asks. 

“She’s the best! I miss her. Let's go see gran!” I say excitedly, “No wait! Farkas can't, she’ll kill him.”

“Why?” Ria asks. Vilkas shakes his head at her.

“He pranksy!” I laugh. 

“But we can see Byir! Byir’s the best!” I say suddenly remembering my cousin, “she likes farkas, but i dont want her to date him, she’s dumb.”

“Loa!” Vilkas admonishes.

“Not dumb dumb!” I ammend, “just love dumb, she’d break his heart, ya know. I bet Ria could handle it, Ria’s tough! Ria will you marry my cousin? She’s real nice!”

“I-"

“You’d be good to her right? She’s real pretty too, like a flower! Only she dates meanies, and I have to break their arms, and granny said I should find her someone nice!”

“Harbinger in honored but-"

“No you're right! She’d hurt you too, even though you're tough. I don't want her to hurt my friends. I can't break your arm!” I tear up at the thought.

“It’s ok, Madaloa!” Ria backtracks but i'm already sniffling.

“I don't wanna break your arm!” I panic and start to struggle. Vilkas has to shift me from his shoulder to his arms.

“Loa, calm down, you don't need to break anyone's arm!” He says, looking me in the eye with a stern countenance. 

“Oh good!” I sigh, relaxing in his arms.

“Are you done playing matchmaker now, petals? Or do I need to contact your Gran?” I nod to show I'll behave, and we continue our journey. It’s fun being so high off the ground. Makes me dizzy. 

“What makes you think i couldn't handle your cousin?”

“Shut up ice brain !” Vilkas warns his brother, but I've already turned my bleary, serious eyes on him. I hang my head backwards to get a good look at him.

“Too nice, like a little puppy, she’d break your heart.” Vilkas snickers at my characterization. 

“Don't be meanie! Kitten!” I say, turning to Vilkas. 

“Kitten?” Farkas grins at his brother. Oh no, I'm in trouble.

“Nonono I’m sorry Vilkas,didn't mean to say it!” I struggle to get down. 

“It’s alright love.” He reassures me.

“Can we stop?” I ask, suddenly feeling queasy. He lets me down and I smile up at him.

“Thanks, kitten.” And I promptly throw up on his shoes. Damned argonian wine. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my dear friends!
> 
> At this point, I think it would be wise to mention that just because my characters get drunk on a regular basis, it is not good to do the same. Always drink responsibly!
> 
> "Ok Gran."  
> "Shut up Thyrnn, you bandit bastard!"
> 
> Anyway, have a wonderful day! Toodles


	36. A Lover's Quarrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Disgustingly angsty and fluffy. Also, I don't know what I just wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a comedy...

I don’t remember much from the trip back to Whiterun. I’m sure I embarrassed myself all the way, but the details are blurry. 

Regardless, by the time we make it home, I’ve sobered up enough to walk on my own. By the end of the night, I apologize to Ria for trying to set her up with my cousin. She assures me that no one will hear of my secret family from her.

Unfortunately, the same can not be said for Vilkas’ nickname. Kitten catches on as quick as Petals did, and now he’s gone all sulky. 

“You can’t shun your brother forever, love.” I remind him from our usual seat in the corner. The time is late, and our companions are rowdy with drink. Any cause for celebration is greatly appreciated at Jorrvaskr. 

“Aye, but i can try.” He responds, turning his scowl on me. I try not to giggle.

“If I can handle them calling me petals, you can take being called kitten.” He takes another drink and shakes his head grumpily.

“It's not that i mind, it's that it was special when you called me that.” He says, pouting a little. I can't hide my laugh. 

“Well, if that’s all, then I’ll come up with another pet name for you,” I say, grinning mischievously, “something no one would think to call you. How about ass? No no, everyone already calls you that.” He finally cracks a smile, though he tries to hide it in his mug of mead. 

“Dont worry yourself dear, I’ll get him back eventually.” He says. 

“I know! We can make embarrassing names for all of those bastards! It would serve them right after stealing ours!” I say triumphantly and he laughs.

“Hey! Petals! Kitten! What are you two conspiring about over there?” Torvar yells from the table. I grin at Vilkas, thinking quickly.

“If you knew the context in which we used those names, I think you’d be a lot less likely to tease us for them,  _ Blondey. _ ” I shoot back. I’ve actually made Torvar blush, an astonishing feat that I think ought to be immortalized in song. The rest of the companions let out a comically disgusted groan. 

“Better, kitten?” I ask, turning back to Vilkas. His face is flushed with embarrassment but he smiles indugently at me all the same.

“I ought to let you drink wine more often.” He muses and I shake my head quickly.

“I puked on your shoes, or did you forget?” I shoot back and he grimaces.

“Dont make that face, I’ll clean them tomorrow,” i say.

“I think you owe me more than just a pair of boots, petals, after all I did carry you home.” He grins down at me and I laugh.

“Only half the way!” 

“Still, I demand payment.” 

“Is my gratitude not payment enough?” He shakes his head teasingly, “fair enough, how about we take the day off tomorrow. We can do whatever you like.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm!”

“Then let's go south! I need a bath and I’m sick of cold water.”

“That's nearly a full day's journey.” I point out.

“Then let's go right now! Be there by noon.” I laugh.

“We’re a little too tipsy for travel.” I remind him.

“Surely you could spare two days for me?” He teases.

“If that’s what you want to do, then i'll gladly spare three!” He grins.

“Let’s go to bed, leave at first light.” 

“Ha, as if you could wake me at dawn after a night of drinking.” 

Not long after, we find ourselves in his room, packing for the trip. It’s not particularly wise to pack when under the influence. 

“Shh, do you hear that?” I ask, pressing a hand to his mouth with a little giggle.

“Yes, dear, someone’s in the hall, how is that unusual?” 

“Oh Kitten!” I exclaim, letting out a loud fake moan. He covers his laugh with a hand and blushes.

“Have you no shame woman?” I shrug, flopping down on his bed to sit beside him. He smiles, moving his pack from his lap to the floor.

“They won't bother you anymore, I'd wager.” I say smugly. 

“Love, even a drunken fool would know that was fake.” 

“Is that so? Well i'm no expert but i doubt you've had much experience with women faking anything.” His face reddens further and I grin. He shakes his head.

  
  


“Have you had many lovers?” I ask, curiosity suddenly taking hold. He stammers.

“I take that as a yes. Anyone I know?” It would seem that I’ve turned making him blush into a sport. 

“I… ugh-”

“No way! Who?” His eyes widen and he shrugs. I laugh at his discomfort and he shakes his head, reluctant smile forming. 

“Should i guess?”

“No, I'm too drunk to be having this conversation.” 

“You're practically sober!” I tease, resting my back against the wall and putting my feet in his lap. 

“I promise I won't kill them… or hurt them in any other way.” I say helpfully.

“You really want to know?” He gives me a sideways glance, evaluating my level of sincerity.

“If you don’t feel comfortable sharing, I understand,” I say, “I’m just curious is all.”

“No, I don’t mind sharing, I just don’t want to make things...awkward.” 

“Oh gods, did you lay with another companion? Was it Aela?”

“Divines no! You think I’d be alive to tell?”

“Ria? Njada? Torvar?” I ask, rapid fire in a tone colored with amusement.

“No, none of the companions! They’re my shield siblings, that would be too strange.”

“So was I, you pervert.” He laughs at my teasing. 

“Ysolda.” He admits, I nod understandingly.

“I could see that, when you were a poet at least. She seems to favor bards.” 

“Aye, and Lydia” he continues, ticking the names off on his fingers.

“My housecarl?!” I ask, astonished. 

“She’s your housecarl?” He asks, fear creeping into his tone. I take it that didn't end well.

“Aye, when I was a Thane, before Vignar got appointed. I dismissed her, always hated the thought of having servants, feels much too pompous for a woodcutter’s daughter. But she is nice enough. Pretty too, I could see how you would be drawn to her. Anyone else from Whiterun?” He blushes. 

“And Jenassa. There were others but you never knew them” He says quietly.

“I’m surprised you walked away from that relationship alive!” I laugh. He smiles hesitantly.

“So many lovers from Whiterun alone? By the nine, you really were a rake!” I giggle, “My honor is ruined! Whatever will my Gran say?” I slide down into the pillow dramatically, throwing a hand over my eyes with the air of a grief struck teenager. 

“Sorry.” His face is beyond red. 

“What for?” I ask, sitting up with a grin.

“The wolfblood-” he starts and I wave my hand dismissively. 

“Who you were with is hardly important.” I lean against him, threading our fingers together.

“You’re not jealous?” he asks, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Gods no, no one in their right mind would try to steal away the dragonborn’s lover.” I tease. 

“And if they did?” The words seem to escape against his will. 

“My dear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get me worked up.” I say in a light tone, but he doesn’t smile.

“I’m just surprised is all.” That look is back, his eyes refuse to meet mine. 

“Oh?” I pull away to face him fully. Gently forcing his face to look at me when he doesn’t face me. 

“Why?” I try to keep the danger from my voice. That hint of warning, like the still before a storm still leeches into the tone. Cold and deadly as the sea. He sighs and I feel my heart race. I never thought he would change his mind so far in. The very suggestion sends fire into my throat. 

“When I was still,  _ contaminated _ with the blood.” He starts slowly, “I often found it very… difficult to see you around others. Not everyone, just…” He pulls away. I can’t quite comprehend where he is going with this, so I try to force a facade of humor.

“Ahh, I see. Your wolf was intimidated by my superior fighting skills.” It is a lame excuse of a joke. 

“No, Madaloa. My wolf liked you. A lot.” He states, as though that clarifies the situation. I tilt my head, avoiding his intense gaze. 

“I had no right to be jealous.” He continues. 

“But I’m no longer a wolf,” I say, finally catching on, “i wouldn't have asked if I'd known it would upset you, love!” I cuddle in closer and continue to reassure him.

“I’m not jealous, I trust you, Vilkas.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” He says, frustration creeping into his tone.

“You want me to be jealous?” I ask, incredulous. 

“No,” He flounders, words escaping him, “it’s just that,  _ I  _ still get jealous. When Torvar makes some stupid comment, or when a shop keep’s eyes linger too long...”

“I would never hurt you, Vilkas.” I say, offended at the very suggestion.

“I know that, I just thought-”

Something clicks within me. I finally understand what he meant all along.

“You thought that if I wasn’t an angry, possessive fool that I didn’t truly love you?” My voice rises in anger, despite myself.

“That’s not what I-”

“No, just say it, don’t hold back,  _ love _ . If you think for a moment that I’m indifferent because I don’t resent those who loved you before then-”

“No it’s not-”

“I don’t relish the idea of you being with others! But I  _ thought _ that you could be trusted.” Heat rises to my face, I should’ve left before I said something I’d regret. It’s not too late. 

“Petals.” he says softly. I pull away, turning to the door. 

“Don’t.” I say, wiping away an angry tear. This is stupid, what are we even arguing for? I need to calm myself, but my anger is not so easily swayed. 

I leave in a hurry, closing the door harder than I intended. Down the hall, I lean my head against the stonewall of the harbinger’s sitting room, struggling to calm myself and staunch the flow of tears.

“Sister?” Farkas knocks at the open doorway tentatively. 

“Yes, shield-brother?” I pull myself together quickly, throwing up my familiar mask of humor and self assuredness before turning to face him.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Did you need something?” 

“You’re a shitty liar.” He remarks, leaning against the doorway with his head tilted like a curious dog. He takes in my tears and turns his gaze away awkwardly.

“It is nothing.” I repeat, convincing no one. I wipe my eyes furiously, feeling weak.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” I laugh. 

“No, it was a stupid argument. I over reacted.” He makes a noncommittal grunt and examines the wallhangings with apparent interest. 

“He lets his emotions control him,” He says finally, “whatever he said, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you.” I nod slowly and he turns to go.

“Thanks, brother.” 

  
  


The next morning brings a headache. I’m woken by a light tap at the door.

“Loa?” I sit up, rubbing my bleary eyes. Vilkas stands in the doorway, looking ashamed, and… bruised?

I jump up, fully awake and run my hands over his body, looking for wounds.

“By the Gods, what happened?” I ask, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

“Stop speaking in riddles.” I snap. He has a black eye and split lip. I yank off his shirt to find that fresh bruises litter his chest and arms as well. I call my magic to my hands to heal him, but he pulls away.

“Stop being dramatic!” I huff and return to my work. He sits still obediently. I'm surprised to find that I'm still angry, ridiculous as it is. 

“Madaloa, I’ve come to apologize.” I roll my eyes, healing his bruises with a gentle touch. They fade to dull shadows of blue and yellow as my magic courses through my fingertips. I feel my headache fade, a pleasant side effect of healing while hungover. 

“I was an ass.” 

“Yes, you were! You are a gods damned fool, do you know that?” I finish healing the bruises and turn my attention on his hands. The knuckles on the right one are badly busted. 

“Did you actually fight your brother?” I ask, examining the damage. 

“No, I let Farkas do as he felt necessary.” I feel a sliver of anger towards Farkas, as noble as his intentions may have been. I make a point to stamp it down. 

“Then pray tell, how did this happen?” I give his hand a little shake and his face reddens, shame creeping back into his eyes.

“After you left I punched the wall.” He stutters and I give an exasperated snort.

“Real fucking mature.” I can't help but notice that i'm starting to sound like my grandmother. One of the knuckles is broken. He doesn't flinch when I set it straight before healing the wound. 

“Well, let's go swimming then.” I say once the work is done. He looks a little stunned.

“You still want to go?”

“Aye, I made you a promise.” I dress quickly, not bothering to try to read his expression. 

  
  


After the initial shock of seeing him injured this morning, I've calmed myself considerably. The walk has given me time to reflect. 

“Petals?” He asks suddenly, breaking the silence that has haunted us since leaving Whiterun. 

“Yes, love?” He visibly relaxes at the endearment.

“I'm sorry I get jealous.” He says quietly. 

“That’s not why I was angry.” He looks vaguely confused, so I elaborate.

“We all have our flaws, and while I hate to think of you having to go through that every time Torvar makes an ass of himself, you’ve never been overbearing about it. I was mad because you acted as though I don't love you as much as you love me.” The words leave in a rush, heat rises to my face in their wake. His silence bothers me. I stop in the middle of the road and block his path.

“Don't tell me that you actually believe that!” I snap, putting my hands on my hips. He avoids my eyes.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Loa.” 

I sigh deeply and take his arm, pulling him into the woods beside the road. 

“Stand here.” I point and step back to face him with arms crossed. He obliges, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

“When I first joined, you were a complete ass.”

“Is this meant to make me feel better?”

“Shut up,” I say gently, and continue, “you were bossy, and I didnt care for your attitude. But I respected you as a warrior, a courtesy you did not extend to me until I earned the honor.” He goes to speak but I silence him with a raised finger.

“I didn't start loving you until you started talking to me. On missions, when you were drunk, when there was no one else to talk to, or I was the only one sober enough to listen.” He snorts softly and I allow myself a small smile. I step a little closer.

“You never saw me as a legend, the great dragonborn, you saw a person, and i…” I take a deep, steadying breath.

“I love the way your eyes light up when you tell stories and the way you get a little wrinkle right here,” I reach out and trace that familiar spot on his brow with the tips of my fingers, “when you scowl.” My voice grows softer as i continue, hand sliding down to cup his cheek. The look in his eyes makes my heart skip like a rock across a pond. A bear could maul me, and i dont think it could have breaken the spell held in his eyes. “The way you always seem to know what I'm thinking and call me on my bullshit when I try to mask it with jokes. How you laugh when I catch you off guard and you're trying to be stern, how your nose crinkles up when you read something you like and how you frown when you read something you don't like. I love how you fight, like it’s an act of defiance, how you look at the way our world is, and you always try to do the right thing, even if it isn't easy.” It’s as though a dam has broken. The words slip out without my consent, flowing ever faster until I force myself to stop speaking. I bite my lip, feeling vaugly embarrassed.

“Loa...” he says breathlessly. 

“I love you,” i say with such sincerity that the words ache in my throat like dragon’s speech, “even when you're an ass.” 

We gravitate towards each other, pulled as though by the tides. The kiss I thought would be gentle is anything but. 

Alduin once mocked me for being a dovah with no wings, but at that moment I was sure I could fly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WTF JUST HAPPENED?! When I started writing this, I meant it to be a funny little chapter! I thought Madaloa would tease him for being a hoe before they met and then they'd go swimming, but by the gods the characters took over and chaos ensued. Lol, I should have known better than to think I had any modicum of control over an imaginary assassin of my own creation... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all are well and that this out-of-control-chapter hasn't put you off the story. I'll try to put a leash on my assassin, but no promises; she slips the collar most days.
> 
> "Get out of my head Thrynn, I know what you're thinking and I can feel you smirking!" 
> 
> I'll be back shortly, see you later alligators!


	37. *In the woods somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops I wrote a smut... as always nothing plot related happens here, feel free to skip if you don't want to read about the old ~horizontal tango~
> 
> Jesus forgive me... I need to find another hobby

“Vilkas” i gasp against his mouth. His hands drift down my waist, trailing fire in their wake.

“Please Loa,” he murmurs, mouth moving to suck marks into the flesh at my throat. My heart hammers against my chest so loud I'm sure he hears it. Hands tangled in his hair, my mind is beyond saving. When he bites me, i let out a faint whimper.

“Gods Loa, do you have idea what that does to me?” He growls in my ear and I laugh, wild as wind. My lips form no protest when he backs me into a tree. My hands creep under his armor, dancing across his burning skin to mark his shoulders. 

“I could make a few guesses.” I reply when the air returns to my lungs. His mouth meets mine with a taste of urgency. I bite his lip, delighting in the deep sound he makes in the back of his throat. My hands drift lower, eyes fluttering open.

“Are you sure, kitten? Someone could hear us.” The forest provides ample darkness, so there is no way a traveler could see us from the road, but we aren't far off it and getting caught would be most shameful indeed.

His hand tangles in my hair, pulling my head back harshly and his mouth swallows my gasp hungrily. He must have forgotten to shave this morning, for his stubble burns my neck in the best possible manner. 

“Then you’ll have to be quiet.” He says, pulling back. I let out another soft moan, despite his warning and he chuckles darkly. 

“Mmh love, if you keep that up I’ll have to bind and gag you.” His eyes drift closed as he resumes his previous occupation, lips trailing over my neck. I tilt my head back and whisper in his ear.

“Do it.” His eyes fly open in surprise. The blue swallowed by darkness like a solar eclipse. He blinks down at me and i grin. Pushing past him, I retrieve my pack from the ground and dig out some rope. He curses softly when I place it in his hands.

“Are you certain?” I nod eagerly. 

“What if there’s a bear?” He asks.

“I trust you completely, love.” 

He is surprisingly gentle as he ties me to the tree. The look in his eyes is intense enough to melt the sun. Fortunate that dragons are versed in fire, I muse. 

“If you need me to stop, just say the word.” He says, pulling down my armor with a look of quiet concentration. I tremble when he kneels before me, pulling at the ties. 

“I see one flaw to our little experiment.” He murmurs, playfully biting my knee as he draps my legs over his shoulders.

“What’s that?” I ask, breathing hard.

“I always liked it when you pulled my hair.” He gives me a cocky grin and sets to work. Divines he is talented. I have to bite my lip hard to keep quiet. Mouth filling with the taste of blood. When he finally pulls away, I sag against the tree, grateful that he left my upper armor in place as the bark digs into my bare legs. 

“Gods i love you.” I murmur and the look he gives me ought to be illegal. 

“Untie me?” I ask, and he shakes his head with a self satisfied grin. 

“No until you beg.” He says as he stands, and I giggle. He nuzzles my neck and i feel his smile against my skin.

“Vilkas?” I say, mischief turning my tone.

“Mmh?”

“Don't be gentle.” He bites me, hard. 

He takes me slow, almost torturously so, darting close to the edge of the cliff only to back away, time and time again. The chill of spring has long since fled in the face of our fire. 

“Please love, let me touch you.” I gasp when I've reached my limit. Without pause, he pulls a knife from somewhere beneath his armor and cuts my hands free, leaving a deep gouge in the bark in his haste. 

“Divines take me.” He murmurs against my neck. I tug his hair, smiling when he growls in my ear. 

When we finally reach the precipice, I cry something that makes the ground shake beneath our feet. Opening my eyes in a stunned manner, I look at Vilkas.

“What did you say?” He asks.

“I haven't the faintest idea.” A streak of fire dances above us and the meaning of my words dawn on me. 

“Oh shit, get down.” I say, laughing wildly. We hide beneath a nearby ledge, pulling our armor back into place. When the magic in my blood returns enough to fix the issue, I speak the words of clear skies and end the meteor shower. Vilkas laughs in a stunned sort of way.

“That was new.” He says.

“Aye, i didn't know i could do that.” I lean against him, exhausted from our previous efforts and the toll of magic. His arms wrap around me instinctively and we sit in comfortable silence for a while more.

“You never cease to amaze.” He murmurs in my hair. 

“Same to you,” I say with a yawn, “do you mind if we camp here tonight? I'm not sure i can walk.” He laughs heartily. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, it's a short one. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it though (correct me if I'm wrong and I'm actually regressing lol) 
> 
> See ya'll later!


	38. A Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J'zargo is an awesome little shit...

“Petals! Kitten!” Ria greets us at the training grounds.

“I’m sorry love, i did try.” I laugh softly and Vilkas grins down at me.

“I don’t mind so much anymore.” 

Our friends wave from the outdoor table. The day is warm, so it seems they've decided to take their mid day meal outside. We walk up to greet them properly, dropping our packs at the stairs. 

"I killed another bear!" Ria informs through a mouthful of bread, and Vilkas ruffles her hair approvingly. 

"Nice work! Did you keep the pelt? I'll buy it off you-" I start to say.

“Harbinger, you've a pile of letters waiting and a visitor.” Njada cuts in, right to business as usual.

“A visitor? Who?” I ask, confused. I'd heard no word from any of my associates.

“Little Loa!” Byirith greets as she jumps on my back from her hiding spot in the rafters. I let out a startled scream that calls the attention of every guard within a two mile radius.

“What are you doing here?!” I scold, swinging around to try to dislodge her from my back. She clings on, laughing at my failed efforts. 

“You don't see me for a year and that’s the first thing you say?!” She shoots back, gracefully sliding off my back when I finally give up and stand still, hands on my hips and scowl firmly in place.

“It won't be a year until early fall, and you know better than to come to my place of work.” I say taking on the air Gran uses when one of her experiments has gone sour and fouled up the yard. She rolls her eyes at the familiar tone and grins at me.

“I was in the area and heard you were in town. How could I pass by without stopping to see my war hero sister?!” She envelopes me in a bone crushing hug that makes me smile, despite the gravity of the situation.

“Byirrrrrr” i groan and she pulls away to fix me with a stern look.

“And don’t you dare scold me for it either!” She snaps.

“You know how dangerous the roads are-"

“Lalala not listening!” She teases, dancing around with her hands over her ears. The other companions laugh and Vilkas shoots me a look that makes it difficult not to chuckle.

“Must you be so ridiculous all the time?” I ask with a false scowl that fools no one. 

“Ahh, you love me.” She laughs. 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” Ria laughs at my joke and Byir shoots her an offended look.

“I thought better of the Companions than to harass an innocent maiden!” She says dramatically and Ria looks ashamed, evidently not catching her joke. Byirith has always been a good actress.

“Leave Ria alone, we both know that statement is far from accurate.” She smacks my arm playfully. 

“You're one to talk, what's that on your neck little Loa? Dare I say it’s not a bruise.” Vilkas blushes but I grin.

“What can i say, my love is an artist.” She cackles and he shakes his head at me when the companions join in. Somewhere from across the yard, I hear Torvar whistle. 

“Don't pretend you aren't happy to see me! I even brought some of that wine you like-"

“Oh gods no!” I laugh holding up my hands in protest. 

Byir plans to stay a few days, so I give her my room and stay with Vilkas. She offered to get a room at the Bannered Mare, but I tell her that don't trust her around that creepy bard. Besides, we usually end up staying together regardless of her presence. The rest of the companions make good use of the wine she brought, and before long a full blown party is underway. I decide to stay sober. I've had enough of that damned wine to last me a few years. While the night wears on, I take refuge in Vilkas’ room. We read in companionable silence, i my letters and he an old book from his shelf. 

“What’s that scowl for love?” He asks pulling me from my thoughts.

“Damn royals and their useless galas.” I answer, handing him the letter. Ulfric has requested my presence at yet another ball, to take place next month. The fool takes any chance to flaunt his most famous weapon. I find that healing soldiers and taking enemy camps is a much worthier use of my talents, but he insists on pageantry.

“At least Vignar will be there.” He points out, handing back the offending letter. I turn my scowl on him.

“If you try to weasel your way out of another one of these blasted parties I swear to the gods-" he laughs.

“Can you blame me? Last time Galmar tried to get me to arm westle him.” 

“Bite me.” I scoff.

“Where?” He teases and I laugh, setting the letter aside to read the next one.

“I was right about the scroll, do you want to go hunting tomorrow? Test it on an easy challenge like a bear.”

“Aye, and I know where to find one, though we ought to invite Ria, she told me where the den was”

“That’d be wise. I’d best bring my cousin too, I don't trust Torvar not to pull something.” 

“Fair enough, shall i ask around and see if anyone else wants to join us?” 

“Aye, better to have plenty of backup in case the scroll goes haywire. J’zargo’s a clever mage but sometimes…” Vilkas laughs, evidently remembering the time my fellow student accidentally blew me up. To be fair, the scroll worked wonders for clearing the draugr. Nearly lost a finger though. 

* * *

The next morning, we assemble a hunting group and pack for the trip. Ria and Byir agreed to accompany us. Surprisingly, Farkas offered to come too. He said he was eager to see how the scroll worked. Before we leave, I lend Byirith my spar bow. She may not be as refined a shot as Aela, but my uncle saw to her education so she has a reliable aim. 

“Gods damn it J’zargo!” 

The scroll had the intended effect: form a shield around the caster. Unfortunately it also had an unintended effect. Now we have a pissed off bear who is protected by the same forcefield that shields me. 

“Arrows aren't working!” Byir yells, drawing the beast's attention in her direction. It charges her, and Farkas jumps in front, sword drawn. The heavy blow pushes the creature back a few paces, but does nothing to damage the barrier.

“Swords are out!” He calls.

“Gods damn it!” I curse again, “I'll get its attention, you guys get out of here.” I shoot an arrow at the creature, and it turns on me. The force field protects me from being mauled, but I’m knocked flat against the ground. I struggle to wiggle free. The forcefields repel each other like oil in water.

“Ha, like that’s going to happen!” Someone shoots back, but I'm too focused on the massive claws intent on my destruction to catch who says it. Instinctively, I shoot the bear with a fire spell. 

My protection dissolves like rain into a puddle.

“Loa!” Vilkas yells in panic. I roll out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed and the barrier flickers back to life around me.

“Magic works!” I yell excitedly, conjuring a bound bow and tossing it to Ria. I hit the beast with a stronger destruction spell, and through our combined efforts the bear falls at last. A hush falls over the forest. I start laughing, a strange knee jerk reaction that quickly infects my companions. 

“Divines take that damned mage.” I say, a little breathlessly, when my sense finally returns to me. 

“To be fair, the shielding spell worked.” Byir says, nudging the dead bear with her foot. We gather around the creature, conjured arrows slowly fading from its flesh like melting ice.

“Aye, a bit too well,” I say, running a hand through my hair with a huff of impatience, “he owes me a drink, that’s for damned sure.” 

"I could go for an ale." Ria remarks, much to everyone's agreement. I smile in amusement.

"It _is_ only fair that I buy the drinks," I admit, "thanks for saving my ass back there shield-sister."

I punch her arm affectionately. She grins at the complement. 

I wait to write my report to J'zargo until I've calmed considerably. Despite his questionable scrolls, he is a good friend and I would hate to anger him for no reason. I am sure to note that the shields are not imperious to magic, in addition to the other _minor_ design flaw. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! 
> 
> I hope all is well with you. Next chapter, we get to learn a little secret that I have been so excited to share. Literally since the moment it came into my mind, I couldn't wait to tell you all! Feel free to guess in the comments section (I have a feeling that some of you clever folk may already have an idea of what it is) but I won't spoil it until the chapter is posted ;-) 
> 
> Have a lovely day...   
> Toodles!


	39. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters letters what do they say?   
> Some from a lover or far far away.  
> Letters letters so many to choose.  
> Watch what you say or who knows what you'll lose...
> 
> Ha sorry I couldn't help myself, I'm a sucker for rhyme

I’ll have to sell some spare armor to afford drinks tonight. Between postage, buying supplies for dragon armor, and the travel expenses associated with army life, my pockets were much lighter than usual. I left my companions at the training grounds and dug through my wardrobe. A few gems, a necklace, and an excellent glass dagger that I had crafted and enchanted myself ought to cover drinks for the night. 

“Hey Cous!” Byir says brightly as I leave the hall. I give her a hard look.

“I thought she was your sister?” Torvar asks, looking at her in a way that makes annoyance rise in my throat.

“I consider her my sister and I’ll defend her as such, blondie.” I say, turning my scowl on him. He shrugs good naturedly. 

“Sorry, Loa, anyway are you going to town? I need to buy some things for-”

“Yes, I’ll show you around.” I say quickly, interrupting her train of thought before she can disclose too much about our family. 

“You must be more careful!” I admonish as we make our way to the shopping district. 

“You worry too much,  _ petals _ !” she teases, skipping along beside me. I heave a sigh.

“There’s a war on, remember! And not everyone in town is pleased that I sided with the Stormcloaks.”

“What are they gonna do about it?” 

“Kidnap you for ransom at the very least.” she scoffs. 

“I’m being serious, Byirith!”

“I am well aware of the dangers,  _ sister _ , I simply refuse to live half a life for no clear purpose. Besides, no one has threatened me so far!” 

We make the usual rounds. Belethor tries to cheat me out of a fair price on the gems, as usual. By the time I'm able to talk him into a good deal, the sun is already setting. I hurriedly buy some ale and mead from the Bannered Mare. Byir is gracious enough to help me carry it home. 

In the midst of Ria’s dramatic retelling of our morning hunt, the courier quietly interrupts our dinner to drop a stack of letters in my lap. I thank him and retreat to the corner of the room to read. The laughter and noise of the companions males for a soothing backdrop as I break the seal on an official looking letter from Galmar. More orders, how lovely. I think sarcastically, skimming the page with little patience. I set it aside and turn to the next.

My heart quickens in anger; I’d recognize that neat scrawl anywhere. Vex and Delvin had taken over all guild correspondence after the  _ incident _ , much to my relief. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, but I still found it hard to forgive. His past actions rang of betrayal. 

“What’s wrong?” Vilkas asks, coming to sit beside me. The smile he’d worn at dinner fading into a concerned frown. I set my jaw, turning back to the letter.

“Brynjolf wrote me.” I say shortly. We sit in uncomfortable silence, our friends oblivious to our sour mood.

“Well, are you going to read it?” He asks finally. I see that familiar look in his eye and shrug. 

“You can't hold a grudge forever, love.” I can tell the words take a lot of effort to get out. 

“You don't really mean that.” I say, taking his hand. 

“Maybe not,” he admits, “I don't like this thief, but i can accept that his friendship matters to you.” 

“Used to.” I correct, but open the letter nonetheless. I can feel his eyes on my face as I scan its smudged contents. 

_ Lass, _

_ I’m truly sorry for my past behavior. I don't remember all of the details, but i can't stand the silence between us any longer. Whatever I say or did, I take full responsibility. You’ve a right to be angry. I don’t ask for forgiveness only that you hear me out. _

_ I am glad that you’ve found happiness. It is hard to come by in this dark world, and your warrior seems a decent man. You have my approval, as well as that of the guild. He is always welcome in our halls. However, let it be known that if he hurts you, you also have our protection. We may not be the Brotherhood, but thieves protect their own.  _

“Arrogant bastard!” I say, shoving the letter into Vilkas’ hands and crossing my arms with a scowl.

“It seems that he is trying to make amends, love.” He says after reading the crumpled paper. 

“He says he gives his  _ approval _ . I never asked for a blessing! Who does he think he is? He’s not my Gods-dammed father!” I say. Vilkas gives me a knowing look which I return with a scowl.

“I’m going to the training grounds, I need to punch something!” I say, rising with clenched fists. 

“Hey petals! What- Oh where is she going?” I hear Ria ask as I storm towards the door.

“Best we let her alone for a bit, Stormcloaks have her stressed is all.” Vilkas responds. 

I drink in the fresh spring air, letting it cool my throat and ease my nerves. Feeling slightly more at ease, I take a step towards the dummies, only to stop at the sound of a giggle. I creep to the shadows, recognizing my cousin’s voice. Gods damn that Torvar, I think, anger growing brighter by the second. My eyes sweep the areas, finally landing on the couple, by the entrance to the underforge. 

“I told you to leave my cousin alone you drunken bast-” I cut myself short, finally recognizing who was kissing Byirith. They step apart with the haste of a pair of lovestruck teens caught by a guard. 

“Uh, hi Loa.” Byir says awkwardly, running a hand through her messy hair. 

“Farkas, would you mind if I had a word in private with my cousin?” My voice is cold and dangerous as steel. He nods quickly, running off to the safety of Jorrvaskr. I step into the moonlight glaring at my cousin.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kick your ass right now?” I shout. “I knew you were foolish, but to  _ use _ one of my shield brothers in such a way-”

“I wasn’t using anyone!” She snaps defensively. I scoff.

“You forget how well I know you cousin. You may find him pleasant to stare at, but you hardly know him! You'll tire of him in a week and break his heart. This isn’t some low life bard; Farkas is a good man! He is as much a brother to me as Thyrnn, how  _ dare  _ you-” 

“How dare  _ I _ ?” Her voice rises with her temper, “How dare  _ you _ ! Do you really think so little of me? That I’d hurt him on purpose, and for what, my own entertainment? I have just as much right to happiness as you, cousin.” She stalks off in a rage. Before I can follow, Vilkas grabs my arm. I was so blinded by my anger, I didn’t see him approach.

“Do I need ask why my brother just begged me to keep you from killing him?” He asks, slightly amused.

“He needn't worry for his own safety,” I spit, “how could she do this? 

“They’re both adults, love, Farkas can handle himself.” I laugh humorously.

“You don’t know my cousin. She’ll eat him alive.” I say. He sighs and wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck.

“You can’t protect everyone Loa, and sometimes it isn’t your place to.” He whispers.

“Not my place?” I ask, pushing away, “she is my little cousin, my responsibility. What would Gran say-” He pulls me back into his arms by the waist, holding me as though he fears I'll run.

“I don’t pretend to speak for your Gran, but she’d probably advise you to calm down.” I grunt, annoyed at his sensibility. He holds me for a long while, only letting go when I finally relax and hug him back. 

“He also asked me to give this to you,” he says, pulling a stack of papers from his pocket. 

“What is it?”

“Whatever was in that lock box.” His curiosity is evident. I hold the top most paper up to the torchlight.

“Letters.” I murmur. I skim the page quickly, taking in the date at the top left corner. Shuffling through the pile, I see many more, dating back almost a year, when we went on that little expedition. Realization dawns on me, like casting a bucket of cold water over my head. 

“She’s been writing to him... all this time.” I scan the contents. It appears that she reached out first, to ask for an artist's advice on one of her contraptions, from there their friendship grew and... I stop reading, not wanting to invade their privacy. 

“Divines, I’m such a gods dammed fool.” 

“You  _ did _ agree to marry me.” Vilkas jokes. I attempt a smile but fail miserably, too distracted. 

“I have to apologize!” I say suddenly, hurrying to the door. 

“Love maybe you should wait-” the door cuts him off. 

“Ooooh Farkas’ in troubleeee” I hear Torvar sing as I pass.

“Better fetch a healer.” Njada grunts. I ignore them in my rush downstairs. I take the steps two at a time and nearly trip into the door. 

“Byir?” I call out, voice echoing down the empty halls. At the entrance to the harbinger’s sitting room, Farkas stands guard, looking like he’s seen a spider.

“I’m not angry with you.” I say, approaching slowly so as not to startle. He crosses his arms, stubbornly refusing to move.

“I won’t let you hurt her.”

“I owe my cousin an apology.” I explain, brandishing the stack of letters.

“It’s best you leave, sister.” he says, but accepts the papers without a word. I push past him.

“Byirith?” I say, stepping into my bedroom, “I’m sor-” Her blow catches me in the ribs, taking the wind from my lungs and knocking me back a few paces.

“I deserved that.” I cough. She raises her fists again, eyes wild with anger, and I raise my palms in surrender.

“Hit me if you must, but I need to apologize first. I didn’t know you’d been in contact.” She lowers her hands warily.

“You haven’t the only claim on secrets.” 

“Aye, and it wasn’t my business to begin with.” She gives me a small laugh and steps back with crossed arms.

“At least you’ve come to your senses.” She snaps. 

“I am sorry, cousin. I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But that’s what bothers me.” she steps closer, voice dripping venom, “You come in here, acting all high and mighty, and expect what? That I’d forgive you, that I’ll let it go?” 

“No, but you deserved an apology.”

“You may be the noble one,  _ cousin _ , but that doesn’t mean I have no honor.”

“I don’t think-”

“Yes you do! You think you know everything about me, you think you know better than me, but you know what? You know what your problem is Loa?” She begins to pace, gesturing wildly, “You keep to all your secrets and still expect  _ us _ to be honest. You’re right, it isn’t your business. You’ve made it very clear that we can’t be trusted to know what goes on in your life, why should you get to know about ours?” 

“I-”

“Gods damn it Loa!” She slams her hand down on the bedside table and I flinch. 

“Family doesn’t keep secrets, and I’m damned sick of yours. You don’t get to treat me like a child. ” 

“You don’t underst-”

“Then fucking enlighten me!” She snaps, “What do I not understand, hmm? Is it because of Tree? You can’t coddle me because of what happened to her.” 

“I…” I shake my head frantically, “I didn’t…”

“You’re not my mother, so stop acting like it!” After a moment’s silence, I leave. 

* * *

“What are you doing, dear?” Vilkas asks, peering over my shoulder as I work at his desk. 

“Oh, I see,” He says, leaning against the desk, “are you sure about this?”

“Aye, she deserves it know.” 

I stay up late, working well into the wee hours of the morning. By the time I’m finished, the candles have burned low and Vilkas snores softly from the other chair. I shake him awake with a yawn.

“Done?” he asks in a voice like rust. I nod, tiredly rubbing my eyes. 

* * *

The next morning, I track down my cousin, somewhere outside Whiterun picking flowers.

“Byir?” She gives me a dirty look and keeps walking. 

“Wait!” I say, hurrying after her.

“What do you want?” I hand her the book and she gives me an annoyed look.

“What is this then? A formal apology.”

“No, it’s my journal,” she raises her eyebrows, dropping the basket to leaf through it, “Well, a copy of my journal, the real one is incripted.” 

“What is this supposed to prove?”

“It’s the truth. About Tristl, about me. Gran probably mentioned the thieves guild and the brotherhood but…” I catch the look in her eyes, apparently Gran didn’t mention anything.

“There’s a reason I’m such a bitch you know,” I smile apologetically, “but you’re right. I overstep my boundaries and while I’d never lie, sometimes omitting the truth is just as bad.” She snorts. 

“Now you sound like Gran.” I chuckle softly and leave her to read.

“Oh, and Byirith?” I call over my shoulder, “Please burn it once you’re done.” 

* * *

“How do you think she’ll take it?” Vilkas asks. After leaving my cousin, I returned to his room so we could talk in private. 

“I’m not sure. How did you take it?” He smiles.

“Your cousin remembers you as little Loa, not the warrior dragonborn. Our situations are hardly comparable.” I shrug and pick up a random book, leafing through it. 

“Do you think she’ll hate me?” I ask, not looking up from the pages, trying hard to keep the sorrow from my voice. 

“No. You’re a stubborn lot, you know that?” 

“We get it from Gran.”

* * *

“Madaloa?” Byirith knocks at the door, startling me from a nap. I pull away from Vilkas, vaguely embarrassed to find that I drooled on his shirt. 

“Can we talk alone?” I nod, standing stiffly and follow her from the room. In the hall, she returns my journal. 

“Thank you.” She says quietly.

“Don’t,” I say, “you had a right to the truth.”

“Loa, why didn’t you ask us for help?” her voice shakes, every syllable sending spikes of pain to my heart. 

“And corrupt you all? No, it was better that I went alone.”

“I’m glad you did it, I just wish…” 

“I hadn’t gone so far?” she nods, averting her eyes.

“I would be lying if I said I regretted it. As evil as it sounds, I can’t carry the weight of all the souls I’ve taken, the number alone is too great.”

“And your destiny-”

“I’m no longer alone in that. The companions have vowed to help me; I may be a fool, but I’ve learned my lesson. And I won’t keep secrets from you and Gran anymore.” She laughs suddenly, startling me.

“All this time, I thought you were the noble one. Looks like I’m the golden child.”

“Ha, we both know that’s Kyrin’s title.” She smiles and shakes her head.

“I’ll be more careful now,” she says, “You won’t see me in Whiterun again.”

“I appreciate it,” I say, sighing in relief, “But I  _ was _ being overbearing. You’re welcome here anytime, just stay out of trouble and away from the war.”

“Really?” 

“Aye, what would I do without my favorite cousin?” I elbow her and she laughs, “Besides, how could I separate two young lovers?”

“Oh, that reminds me, do you have that tonic stuff?” My face reddens and I nod. 

“Don’t be so coy, cousin,” she scoffs playfully, “I’ve seen you with his brother...Got any tips for handling these big warrior men?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and my blush deepens.

“I am not going to dignify that question with an answer.” I sputter and she laughs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! 
> 
> The big secret is finally reveled! Byirith and Farkas, can you believe it?! I'm so happy for them! I get the feeling that they are going to be a pranky, chaotic, power couple, and I can't wait to work with that dynamic. 
> 
> I hope all is well with you!  
> Toodles!


	40. A modest proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know the context that the title was originally used in, but it's such a good title can you blame me? Anyway back to the war...

“My Liege,” I say, placing a hand over my heart and bowing formally to Ulfric. I hate these galas. 

“Bone-Breaker, I’m honored that you could make it tonight.” He says and I struggle not to roll my eyes. 

“I would never defy a direct order,” I joke, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my dress. I look around for Vilkas, but see that his presence has been commandeered by some rowdy looking officers. 

As usual, it takes nearly an entire night to make it to the throne. So many people come to vie for the king’s attention, I find it easier to wait for the crowds to clear. Now, in the late hours of the night, only the warriors remain. If I wasn’t required to address him directly, I wouldn’t bother hanging around, but Galmar demands that I pay my respects. 

“Fine sentiment, if only it were true,” He says, hiding a smile. This time, I don’t bother to hide my eye roll and he laughs. 

“Dragonborn, I must ask why you didn’t wear your armor.” 

“Were you expecting an attack?” I say. 

“No, I am merely curious. You look far more impressive in dragonscale.” I snort. 

“How could I have forgotten. My only purpose is to look impressive.” Galmar gives me a dirty look, but Ulfric smiles at my insubordination. I’ve always hated his condescending attitude. 

“Tell me, bone-breaker, do you not wish your legacy to be immortalized in song?” He says, eyes searching my face in an unsettling sort of way. He gestures for me to follow. 

“My legend has been sung since long before my birth. I have no need for more glory.” I say as we make our way to the war room. He leans over the table, deep in thought. 

“Can it be considered your legend if you have no part in it?” I study the map, noting the way blue has overcome red. 

“I’ve had part enough. If I could have no songs sung in my honor, I would.”

“You are a strange one, dragonborn.” He points out. I rather think that he has had too much wine. Foolish to make battle plans while tipsy. 

“I have a proposition that I think you may find… appealing.” He says finally. I look up from the map, meeting his smile with a glare. There’s that condescending tone again.

“Spit it out then. It is far too late at night to leave for battle, but I’ll head out first thing in the morning if that is your wish.”

“Not battle, marriage.”

“Excuse me?” I stand back, instinct tells me to draw my dagger but reason prevents it. If I stabbed the future high king in the middle of a party, someone would surely notice.

“I know that you thirst for power. Become my queen. It would make for an excellent story.”

“You know full well that I am already spoken for.” He waves a hand, impatient.

“It need not be a legitimate marriage. Indeed, you’re hardly appealing to me in that aspect. No this is a game of chess.” He gestures to the table, “a move to gain position.”

“Listen here and listen well,” I say leaning forward across the table, “I’ve fought for your cause, and fought well. You know better than any that my submission can’t be bought by title or grandeur. If you think that a wedding band would make me follow orders then you are a greater fool than I thought.” I hear Galmar snort. Ulfric nods approvingly.

“You are a true nord, shield-sister. Your fire could lead this land to greatness.”

“I’ve no desire to rule, especially not beside the likes of you. You forget your place, Ulfric,” I snarl, “you may have killed the last king by my language, but you are not possessed of the blood. If you could rend him limb from limb with words, imagine what I could do to you. I am a dragon. I could tear your city apart brick by brick without breaking a sweat. Keep testing my loyalty, and you may find yourself dead.” Galmar draws his blade with a sharp gasp, but the high king merely smiles. It is as I suspected, another mind game, another test of my mettle. 

“I’ll have you flogged for that!” Galmar snaps and I turn on him.

“Darling, you can’t break steel with glass.” I let my voice take on the same condescending tone that Ulfric had used with me. 

“That’s enough Galmar, the girl has proven herself.” 

“My king?” 

“Loyalty is paramount to our cause. Had she accepted my offer, I would have had her beheaded. If she could betray her love for power, imagine what damage she could do to our cause” This time Galmar rolls his eyes.

“She has proven herself more than adequately in battle, that is all that matters.” Ulfric ignores him and fixes me with a stare.

“I did not mean to offend, surely you understand.” I nod carefully. 

“Your next mission places you in a seat of power. The information you obtain could destroy our cause or end the war.”

“Then let the war be over so I may get on with my destiny.” I say. Galmar smirks and hands me a dossier. 

“The blue palace itself, hmm?” I ask, drumming my fingers against the table as I read the assignment, “consider it done.” 

“It won’t be that simple. No one can know of your presence in the city.”

“That is no problem.”

“The informant can’t know your true identity.”

“That is some problem.” I say with a short laugh. To hide from enemies is no challenge to a thief and assassin, but to meet a person, break bread and share top secret enemy camp movements without them recognizing your voice or face…

“Why send me if the spy can’t be trusted.” Ulfric and Galmar share a look.

“He isn’t a spy.” I flip back through the dossier and then give them a confused look that borders on annoyance.

“Why was this not mentioned in the orders?”

“The informant is a child, we didn’t want to jeopardize his safety.”

“You expect me to torture a child?!”

“By the gods no!” 

“I’m sorry, so you expect me to get a child to tell me  _ top secret information _ that he could be  _ killed _ for develging, without him recognizing my voice or face, in an enemy city? What the fuck Ulfric?!” 

“It won’t be so difficult as you make it out to be, the boy is a courier, you merely have to get your hands on the letter, copy the information, and slip it back into his pocket before he notices its absence.” 

“Oh yeah, so simple a king could do it,” I snap, running a hand through my hair, “I may be gifted at hiding but I’m no great pickpocket, why don’t you ask a more talented agent?”

“You bear a passable resemblance to the boy’s music teacher.” 

“For Talos sake! Do you want him to see me or not?!” I sigh deeply and shake my head.

“It gives you an alibi if you are caught with his pack. Obviously that is worst case scenario, but...”

“Gods damn it!” I slam my hand on the table, making the little war figures jump, “bearing a passing resemblance to someone is not going to fool the damned Empire! You ought to send someone who knows less, if I’m captured the thalmor will have no qualms about torturing information out of me.”

“I trust your loyalty to the cause. Do your job well, and there will be no need for an alibi.” Ulfric smiles like a cat with a canary. I bet he thinks he’s clever, the fool. I flip through the dossier once more, memorizing the route I’ll need to take, the time and place the meeting will occur, and the description of the letter I’ll need to steal and un-steal.

“What is so important about this letter?”

“Best you find out on your own.” Galmar states and I give him an incredulous look.

“You don’t even know? I’m risking my life and you don’t even know what for?!”

“We have it on good authority-” He tries to pacify.

“Fuck your authority!”

“Are you done whining, Dragonborn?” Ulfric asks in an amused tone. I scowl at him.

“Are you done being a fool? I’ll still kick your ass you know, and it’d probably do you a world of good. Knock some sense into that thick royal skull.” He chuckles and Galmar tries to smack my arm. I step out of the way just in time. 

"We'll need you to make an appearance near Markarth on your way back."

"That's clear across Skyrim! It's take me two weeks out of the way!"

"We're sending you with our fastest horse. You'll need to make it seem as though you were there all along."

"so no-one can see me traveling either. Fantastic. You two have really out done yourselves. How, pray tell, am I to do that?"

"We've spread a rumor that you are with child. There's a renowned midwife in the area who makes most of her coin predicting unborn children's characteristics. Vilkas will be waiting at camp, it won't seem strange that you don't leave her cabin for a week or so; they say that her brand of magic takes time, not an exact art." 

"I am going to kick you ass, I hope you know that," it's an empty threat, but saying it makes me feel better, "two weeks travel in a week, can't be seen by anyone so I'll need to take the back way which tacks on more time, and you tell everyone that I'm with child. Just when I thought you couldn't get more stupid." 

"Watch your tongue."

"Go fuck yourself, Galmar." I push away from the table and stride towards the door."Now if that is the last idiotic request, I'll be going. Have my horse ready an hour before dawn and for gods sake, stop spreading rumors about me!"

"Vilkas! We're leaving!" I holler across the hall as I leave the room. All eyes turn to me. I can't believe I didn't notice the whispers before. 

"What is it this time?" He asks, concern filling his eyes. His face is flushed, the other officials have evidently been teasing him. 

"Apparently I'm with child." His eyes nearly pop out of his head and I laugh loud enough to draw attention. 

"Don't worry, love, I'll explain later." I whisper. 


	41. A Spy's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poor little Loa!

By the time I reach Solitude, I haven't spoken to anyone other than my horse in nearly three weeks. Traveling at night, stopping only when my body demands rest, I reach the gates of the city only two days before I am set to intercept the letter. We make camp several hours away, and once again I curse myself for not asking the horse's name before I left. I’m terrible at naming, so I've taken to calling him Nightlight, because he has a white patch on his face that seems to glow against his chestnut coloration when the moons strike it right. I noticed soon after leaving Windhelm that though they had packed plenty of grain for my companion, they had packed only two thirds the provisions required for a month's journey. Damn Ulfric and his schemes. It’s just another way to ensure my haste. 

They also thought to give me the clothing of a bard and a flute, along with the other tools of a spy. At least it’s less bulky than a lyre, though if someone asks for a song they’ll soon realize i don't know how to play. 

I don't risk a fire, knowing that to be caught would jeopardize not only my mission, but fellow spies as well. They sent a double to travel with Vilkas, made me lend her my armor. I protested on the grounds that masquerading as the dragonborn is a deadly venture. I’ve lost count of the times I've been ambushed traveling from camp to camp. Unfortunately, my concerns fell on deaf ears, as usual.

It isn't easy to sneak into a city. To get past the gates, I have to pass two guards. Fortunately, I was given a rather billowy hood that shadows my features. Dressed as a bard, I pass into Solitude with little trouble and hurry to my post. It is early in the morning, hours before dawn could render my hiding place outside of the guards hall obsolete. 

The target exits the barracks. I drink an invisibility potion and cast a spell that slows time. Sneaking over, i pull the letter from his bag and hide in a bush. I heat the edge of my knife with a spell and slip it under the wax seal gently. Damn, it had to be encrypted, didn't it? Hastily pulling a bit of thin paper and a charcoal pencil from my bag, i copy the letter as precisely as i can, lining it up word for word incase placement is key, while making sure not to get coal on the original copy. It’s a damned long letter! All in all, the procedure takes me ten minutes, though it feels much longer with my heart trying to dance its way out of my chest. I hastily reseal it, blowing quietly on the wax to cool it faster as I frantically search for the courier boy. I stick to the shadows and edge my way through the city, finally spotting him near the palace. I stifle a relieved sigh; I caught him in the nick of time.

It’s a good thing it’s so early in the morning, no witnesses about. I slip the note back into his bag easily and make for the gate, tugging my hood tighter about my shoulders.

  
  


I’m being followed. 

I managed to make it through the gates with no trouble, but around the stables I caught someone’s eye.

I try to appear as though i dont notice her presence as I make my way through the woods. The stalker is an elderly woman, small and kindly looking. She follows at a distance,struggling to keep up. I try to lose her in the trees, but before i can escape, she calls out.

“Miss? Are you well?” I curse silently, knowing that to ignore her would draw suspicion.

“Aye ma’am, i thank you for your concern.” I try to answer lightly, turning to give her an appreciative nod. She comes closer. I feel my heart try to claw its way from my chest. 

“You're a poor liar,” She chuckles softly, hobbling over. We are deep in the trees now, close to my camp and far from prying eyes. If worst comes to worst...

“I’m not lying!” I lie.

“Now miss, don't get defensive. I wanted to make sure you were alright, I didn't mean to startle you.” She draws closer, my hand dances across the handle of my dagger. I don't want to...

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, girl, it’s dangerous, there’s a war on.” 

“I don't have a choice.” 

“Ah, a fugitive. I figured as much, that’s why I didn't say anything in front of the guards.”

“I’m not a fugitive!” I say, thinking quickly, “i’m meeting a friend.”

“Oh?” She asks.

“Yes, i’m meeting a friend.” 

“You should warn them against meeting in such a dangerous place. Why don't I walk with you, dear?”

“No!” I say, much too quickly.

“It’s alright, I don't bite.” She laughs.

“I… uhh…”

“Why are you so frightened, girl?” My mind races.

“I’m running away, please don't tell anyone you saw me.” 

“Oh you poor dear! Why are you running? Do you need help?” 

“No!” I'm starting to panic. Gods don't make me kill her. 

“Calm down dear, it’s alright. Why are you running?”

“I… my husband treats me poorly. I've arranged passage to Solstheim, but please you can't tell anyone you saw me. He’ll kill me!” I hope my nerves make my lie seem real. I don't want to kill her. 

“Dont worry child, your secret is safe- wait… i’ve seen you before.” No no no no no no no!

There is no gentle way to take a life. The force required to drive a dagger through flesh is considerable. You can't hesitate or you’ll miss your mark and hit a rib, prolonging the victim’s suffering and risking detection. For the first time in a very long time, I am grateful to be an assassin. She passes swiftly and the cold part of my brain takes over. I raise the corpse with a necromancy spell, something I picked up from necessity years prior but have little cause to use anymore. The thing about dark magic is it’s good for destroying evidence. When the spell dwindles, her body turns to ash. I sift through and take any remaining effects that could be used to identify the body. A wedding band, a scorched journal that somehow survived the flames, and a necklace. 

We leave immediately, through the woods, avoiding roads. Nightlight is a fine steed, and makes no complaints though we don't stop until the next morning. 

One would think that a 24 hour ride would make me tired, but sleep evades me. Haunted by another innocent life, as it were. I read her journal and vow, against better judgment, to return it to her family once the war is done.

After laying awake in the brightening light for a considerable time, I give up on rest and pull out the copy of the letter. I hope she died for a good cause at the very least. 

The code is simple enough to crack, with the help of the breaker I logged into my journal when Ulfric started sending me on intelligence missions. The empire uses several official codes, some requiring a key, others a special piece of metal or wood with slots cut in the right location. The letter before me is normal to the untrained eye, but unfortunately for the empire, my fellow spies have stolen, cracked, and picked apart most of their code systems. I make quick work of it.

Though the letter is written normally, a long page to a friend about a horse sale it seems, every fourth letter is capitalized, the date written backwards, and three dots mark the upper left corner of the page. I recognized the system when I first copied it. I’ve seen it many times before, though I've never actually translated it.

We call it four back three; the codebreaker says to read the page backwards, from the bottom up, write down every fourth letter and discard the third from that. No wonder it took me so long to copy the damned thing, so much wasted space between the real message and the fake. 

The fact that they took the time to come up with words that fit the code makes me suspect that the letter is of great importance. Normally they write gibberish, trusting the code to keep the information safe. Someone took the time to make it look like a regular letter to the untrained eye, to make it look inconspicuous. I let the work take my mind, relieved to find it eases my guilt, if only momentarily. 

It comes out wrong. No, that isn't right, I'm certain I transcribed it exactly. It must be double encrypted. I pour over my code breaker, wracking my brain. There must be something I missed! 

The three marks at the top, there was something off about them. I close my eyes, exhaustion making my mind slow as syrup. 

They weren't dots, they were stars! I dig through the book. Five pointed stars... that means to use the code dial! I dig through my bag again, pulling out the stolen bit of hardware. Galmar insisted I carry one, even when i didnt think I'd need it. 

Translate the letters to their number equivalents, put them in the dial…

I work well into the day. It is past noon before i'm done. I sleepily read the message, comprehension muddled.

Suddenly, my exhaustion fades. I see now why Ulfric thought it wise to test my loyalty. 

It is an order, a battle plan. They mean to attack one of our encampments in three months time, nothing earth shattering there. What catches my attention is the warning. Solitude will be low on troops for a week prior to the attack. Defenses down, General Tullius will be at our mercy, if only we can pull it off. The letter instructs the head of the guard to put all available guards on patrol. The outerwall will be heavily fortified to keep the appearance of strength. 

Three months and the war could be won! 

My adrenaline finally fades and i lay down to rest. Three months…

* * *

“Loa! You’re early!” For once, Vilkas isn't grumpy at being woken in the middle of the night. I made the two week journey in under a week's time, thanks to Nightlight and more than a few stamina potions. Sneaking into the camp was disturbingly easy; I’ll have to tell the commander to appoint better guards. 

“What happened, love?” Vilkas pulls back from the hug to look in my eyes, “have you slept at all this last month?”

“I’ve slept, don’t worry about it.” I mumble.

“You've slept eh? And i suppose this is just war paint.” He licks his thumb and teasingly tries to wipe the dark circles from under my eyes. I struggle to crack a smile. 

“I’ll tell you later, right now i have to get my orders and get back to Windhelm as soon as possible.” 

“I don't think so, I've slept alone for nearly a month and gods take me if I'll go another night without you.” He sweeps me off my feet and tosses me on the small cot. I giggle.

“Been cold has it?” I ask, he hums in agreement and pulls me close, burrowing under the still warm blankets. I yield, beyond tired from the journey.

“What happened?” He asks, after examining my face for some time. My frown deepens.

“I had to kill someone who didn’t deserve it.” I finally answer, voice threatening tears. He brushes a stray bit of hair from my eyes and kisses my forehead softly.

“I'm sure you had no other choice.”

“What if i did? What if I could have let her go? She was trying to help me.” I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. 

“And what if you couldnt? What if the imperials had captured you?” 

“Don't make excuses for me. What’s done is done, and now i find a way to live with it.” I murmur against his throat. He sighs deeply and hugs me tighter. Sleep finds me, not so hard as before. 

* * *

  
  
  


The next morning we share breakfast in our tent and go over the time we missed.

“I wish i could tell you what i know. It’s so important that Galmar would probably have me beheaded if I shared.”

“Worth Ulfric and his rumors?” I laugh when he places a hand on my belly. 

“Aye, worth even that.” 

“I hope so, I had to knock some sense into more than a few soldiers.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, they teased me mercilessly.” I grin at his playful pout.

“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I’m sure. And probably nothing too far from the truth” i rest my hand on his leg and give him a playful wink. He cracks up.

“I should certainly hope not, their latest theory is that the child isnt mine.” 

“Those bastards! Who am I meant to have consorted with then?”

“They say it’s Galmar’s.” I cackle at the ridiculous notion. The man is old enough to be my father, and anyone who’s seen us together knows we don't get along. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! Ya know, I almost feel bad for tourturing Madaloa, but then I remember she isn't real so..... ouch, she just stabbed me with an imaginary dagger! haha I'm very tired...anyway I hope you're all doing well, I'll see ya soon!
> 
> Toodles :)


	42. Fortune Favors the Bold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loa see's the midwife!

The camp commander was oblivious to the fact that i hadn't been at camp these last few weeks. I told no one of my mission, letting them spin their rumors and make me an alibi. The fewer people who know, the better our chances. 

He gave me a dossier on a man in Markarth who may be sympathetic to our cause. I'm getting sick of spy work. 

It was a simple enough mission, by noon I have what we need. As I was making my way out of town, an elderly woman stopped me in an alleyway. 

“Ah, the Dragonborn. You’re the one everyone says i've been tending this last fortnight.” 

“Aye ma’am, rumors are a tricky thing. A girl can't visit her mum near Markarth without being called pregnant.” I joke, hoping the humor will cover the lie. She smiles.

“That’s for certain. Well, I suppose I ought to thank you. Your little rumor has doubled my business. Everyone’s trying to catch a glimpse of the famous warrior.” I laugh.

“I'm happy to be of assistance madam.” 

“Say, why don't you stop by for a reading, on the house. That way, I won't be lying when I tell customers I've seen the Dragonborn’s future!” I pause. On one hand, it would make my story more credible, if people saw me leaving her shop there would be no doubt I’d been in the area. On the other, if her reading deals with the war…

“But ma’am, surely you must know I'm not actually with child.” She waves a hand.

“Not yet, but I can see if you'll ever wed, or where you’re most likely to settle down... Come child, my shop’s just around this corner. Now i must warn you my readings are accurate, but oftentimes they aren’t precise. The future is a tricky thing, I can't see anything you don't want to know.” I let her guide me to a little shop at the edge of town. If it’s a personal reading, I don’t suppose it could hurt. 

The shop is surprisingly bright, considering it’s position in an alleyway. Candles line the shelves and dried herbs mark the air with a comfortable scent. She instructs me to sit at the table and sets to work lighting a fire, even though it is a warm spring day and there’s no need for light. I sit, looking around curiously. Stacks of books line the walls and floor, breaking the otherwise orderly room into a homey mess. The seer grabs a bundle of herbs from the low rafters and tosses it on the fire before turning back to me.

“Now, let’s see what we can see.” 

She settles in across from me and examines my face thoughtfully.

“This won't be as extensive a reading as I usually conduct, we haven’t the time for star charts and conjurings, I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” I smile reassuringly. 

“Let’s see now,” she nurmers, taking my hands in her own and closing her eyes and though deep in thought.

“You will have a child one day,” she says quietly, tilting her head as though in a trance, “i think it goes without saying that the father is already known to you.” She opens her eyes and gives me a smile that I can't help but return. 

“Do you see anything else?” I cant keep the excitement from my voice. So far,all tellings of my future have been dark. It’s nice to hear something positive about my fate for once. She frowns, a look of deep concentration crosses her brow.

“Yes. The spirits say your child will have their father’s eyes,” I grin foolishly and she releases my hands with a gentle pat.

“and your voice.”

The fortune thus told, she leans back in her chair and smiles at me from across the table. My own fades.

“My voice? But that would mean…” i feel fear rise in my throat, “that can't be! Im supposed to be the last Dragonborn!” 

“Calm down dear, nothing is set in stone. The words could mean many things, there’s no need for panic.” She says reading my mood with practiced ease. 

“But i can't pass this curse onto a child! By the gods, I was only 15 when it was forced on me and I barely survived! What would become of a child born with the voice?” 

“Easy now, let me fix you a tea. They only said they would have your voice, nothing of blood. Perhaps you’ll teach them the language of dragons and nothing more.” She pacifies, rising to put a kettle over the fire. 

“I thank you for your reading, but i must be going.” I say, standing so suddenly that I almost knock over the table. I dig through my pockets and hand her some gold.

“I said it was a free reading dear, you don't need to-” I leave before her protests can register, racing through the crowded streets until I reach the gate. 

  
  


By the time I make it back to camp, I’ve calmed myself considerably. I go about my duties, healing the fresh wave of injured soldiers before reporting to the camp commander. The Talos worshiping official had given me information on a weapons shipment. The commander gives me orders to assist Ralof with the raid and then return to Windhelm. We set off at once. I’m damned tired of travel. 

“So, is there something you need to tell me?” Vilkas asks in a teasing manner. I stop scanning the forest to give him a confused look. We’ve volunteered to take the rear guard on our march; to make sure no one ambushes our group before the ambush. 

“Rumor has it you were seen with that midwife.” He elaborates, grinning down at me. I give him a distracted smile and shrug.

“Aye, she offered to tell my fortune.”

“Did she now? Anything interesting?” 

“Seems I’ll be a mother someday, she even said I already knew the father. That’s when I knew she was a fraud, I don’t know any who would be so foolish?” I tease and his smile widens. 

“Is that so? Foolish indeed to wed a dragon. What else did she say?” I tell him the rest, humor fading to worry. His smile doesn’t falter.

“Is that what you’ve been scowling for?” He asks, and I give him a dark look. 

“This is serious, Vilkas, what if our child is dragonborn?”

“Would that be so bad? The blood doesn’t matter much until you kill a dragon.” 

“They’d be turned into a weapon, like me.”

“You’re not a weapon.” 

“Not to you, but to the rest of the world? I’m nothing more than a legend.” 

“A legend who’s shit at guard duty!” Ralof rides back to scold us for our lack of attention. It is true, we’ve been so lost in conversation that we’ve strayed closer to the group than intended. 

“I  _ was  _ watching!” I say, though it isn’t particularly true. 

“Aye, watching your lover’s ass! Keep gossiping and I’ll have to separate you two!” He reigns his horse in to walk alongside us. The poor beast seems to hate being in the back of the line. 

“That is uncalled for! Besides, it isn’t nice to eavesdrop.” I scold and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s called staying focused on the mission. You haven’t had trouble before, just because you’re pregnant doesn’t give you a pass to be lax in your duties.”

“I’m not pregnant, you ass!” I stoop down to pick up a rock and hurl it at him. He dodges with a laugh and his horse snorts indignantly at me. 

“That’s not what the rumors say, dragonborn! Stay focused on the mission, I’d rather not be jumped by a cave bear.” 

"I thought you were against gossip!" He laughs and shakes his head.

"Only when it suits me. Now mind your duty!"  He trots ahead and we fall back to our guard, eyes on the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
> I've had to go a bit off script, I hope that's alright with you all... 
> 
> In other news, I've officially written over 200 pages on my doc (granted I double space but still that's a lot!) Thank you for taking this journey with me. I've had so much fun with this story, and I'm dreading the end (We've still got a ways to go, don't worry). Love you all! Have an awesome day
> 
> Later Gators!


	43. Secret's Revealed

“Are you well?” Vilkas asks, concern coloring his voice. He pulls his blade free from the last imperial soldier with a sickening sound.

“I’m fine, barely a scratch.” I grunt, hobbling over to a stone wall to examine the burning wound on my upper thigh. 

The raid went well, and we headed back to Winterhold as soon as Ralof granted us leave. Unfortunately, the imperials countered our little attack with their own. As Vilkas and I travelled, they surrounded us. We fought well, considering that we were vastly outnumbered. I’m starting to see why Galmar keeps trying to convince me to bring a personal guard; these attacks are getting more and more frequent. 

“Doesn’t look it.” He says, leaning his sword against the wall to take a closer look. The cut is deeper than I thought. Luckily, it missed an important artery by centimeters. I make sure not to mention that little fact.    
“It’s not bad,” I say, tearing a bandage from my pack and wrapping it quickly, “we need to move, Talos knows if they had backup.”

“You need rest.” 

“Not yet,” I say, struggling to my feet, “we’ve got three days to travel before we can let our guard down.” 

He scowls down at me and takes my arm to help me walk. We make our way off the road, doing our best not to leave a trace. I wouldn’t bother to take the roads if I didn’t have to, but war requires speedy travel. Taking an evasive route will tack on another day to our schedule, but given my state, it is a necessary endeavor.

I’m able to walk for an hour before my leg gives out. 

“Let’s make camp.”

“No!” I say stubbornly, scrambling around the forest floor to find a stick sturdy enough to lean on.

“Love-”

“We need to keep going.” I rise again, brow beading with moisture from the effort. Something is wrong.

“Damn it Madaloa!” He snaps, “At least heal yourself first.” 

I give an exasperated sigh and allow him to help me sit. I set to work unwrapping the wound. 

“You can’t force yourself past your limit!”

“I’m fine!” No I’m not. The cut is inflamed and red as a sailors sky. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” All the sternness leaves his voice, momentarily replaced by something softer. 

“They poisoned the blade,” I mutter, “Hand me my healing bag.” He fumbles in my pack, cursing quietly.

“You shouldn’t have walked on it! That spreads the poison-”

“Into the bloodstream. I know! I was a damned healer” I say meeting his scowl with one of my own. He shakes his head, finally finding my healing bag. I dig through it impatiently until I find the necessary ingredients. I ran out of cure poison potion at the last camp, and didn’t bother to make more; I use it so rarely. All I’ve got is wheat and garlic. It will have to do. I carefully unwrap my mortar and pestle and set to work grinding them together. 

“Can I have some wine, please?” Vilkas hands me the bottle from his pack without a word, face set in a deep frown. I dig out an empty flask and scrap the mashed ingredients in, heating the wine with magic until it scalds my fingertips. I slosh the burning liquid into the flask and give it a good shake. While that steeps, I set to work cleaning the cut with the remaining wine.

“Why are you using wine?” Curiosity pulling him from his silent brooding, though the scowl doesn’t leave his lips.

“Haven’t the time to boil water. Works better anyway, just more expensive.” I say through clenched teeth. 

“We’re done for today.” He says and I give a dry laugh.

“Madaloa, you can’t be serious?” I continue to flush the wound with hot wine and ignore his comment. It’ll need stitches. I hate stitching myself, but I don’t think Vilkas is in the right mind to tend to it. 

“We aren’t traveling today!” He insists as I clean and thread the needle with steady hands. 

“Yes we are.” I say shortly. The potion is ready. I dab a bit on the cut for good measure before knocking it back. It burns in my throat. 

“Loa!” He growls, wrenching the needle from my hands.

“Vilkas!” I reply in a similar tone, reaching for the stolen tool. I’ll have to clean the damned thing again. He holds it higher, where I can’t reach and I huff. 

“You need to take it easier! By the gods, when was the last time you slept the whole night through?!” His voice is rising and I glance around the underbrush pointedly. 

“Give it back you ass!” I say quietly. He hands the needle back and continues to lecture me in a fevered whisper, pacing the forest floor with the look of a caged wolf.

“You’re working yourself to death. How will you defeat Alduin when you can barely stand for fear of falling over?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Love-”

“I’m fine Vilkas!”

“No you aren't, you're stretched so thin you can barely hold a conversation!”

“You’re not my grandmother, you don’t get to lecture me.” I say, leg temporarily forgotten.

“I damned well do!” He sits down beside me to glare at me properly. 

“I can take care of myself.” I lean closer in an attempt to match his height and scowl down at him for a change. It doesn’t work as well as I’d hope but I manage.

“Then why don’t you?” 

I don’t know who leans in, but somehow we wind up kissing. Angry and warm. I keep my lips stubbornly shut when he tries to deepen the kiss. The smug bastard bites my lip, tongue darting in when I gasp. We battle for dominance. 

His hand accidentally brushes my wound and I yelp like a dog. He jumps back, face red and eyes apologetic. 

“You can’t keep going like this, petals.” he murmurs softly, taking the needle from my hands and washing it in wine. His hands are gentle as he sets to work stitching my leg. I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood and forget to breathe for a moment. 

“I can handle it.” I grit out. 

“I don’t doubt that, but you shouldn’t have to.” 

“We need to get to Winterhold as quickly as possible, I can’t tell you why.” He gives me a pointed look as he cuts the thread.

“You’re no good to the Stormcloaks dead.” 

“You’re an annoying bastard when you’re right, do you know that?” I concede with a sigh. He doesn’t try to hide his grin. I frown hard and cast a quick healing spell, making sure not to use too much magika in case we are ambushed again. 

“I’m so sorry, my dear, if I’d have known that you thought me a bastard, I would've tried to reign in my charm so you didn’t fall in love with me.” I snort as I start repacking my bag. 

“You’re on thin ice, kitten.” I hoist the pack onto my shoulders and try to stand, but he drags me back down.

“We already settled that we are done for today” He says, pinning me on his lap. If my leg didn’t smart so much, I would’ve struggled.   
“I never agreed to that; I only admitted you were right. We’ve got to put more distance between ourselves and the scene of the slaughter before more Imperials come.” He finally releases me, watching as I employ the help of a tree branch to find my feet. He stands easily and sweeps me into his arms. 

“Put me down! I can walk.”

“Aye, in the same way that an ice spider can tapdance.” I wiggle in his arms, mindful of my injury. 

“Quit being a brat and let me carry you!”

“Let me down or I’ll kick your ass!” He gives me a dirty look and sets me back on my feet. All in all, I’m able to walk just fine, aside from the obvious limp.

“You’re a stubborn fool.” He remarks. 

“I’m your stubborn fool.” I quip and he has a hard time hiding his smile. 

“Let me help you and I’ll kiss you senseless tonight.” So he’s resorted to bribery? I stifle a giggle.

“You’ll do it anyway.” 

“Not so! I’m nothing if not patient, my dear.”

“You can’t resist me! Not when I give you  _ the eyes _ .” I bat my lashes at him theatrically and his face reddens. 

“You little vixen. You know?”

“Of course, why do you think I give you that look in war meetings? I delight in driving you insane.” I tease and he bites his lip to hide a grin. 

* * *

  
  


“You’re certain you weren’t seen?” Galmar asks for the tenth time and I nod, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

“By the gods,” Ulfric murmurs, setting the paper down with a sense of finality. 

“You’re lucky the information was so good. I’d have kicked both of your asses if it wasn’t.” I say with a smug grin. Galmar looks like he intends to challenge me to a duel. 

“Quiet Galmar.” Ulfric says before his second in command has a chance to open his mouth. 

“But she was-”

“You don’t have to deal with Ralof’s teasing, commander! If you did, you’d be just as insufferable as I.” 

“You’ve done a fine service for our cause, Madaloa, we will see you’re promoted accordingly.” Ulfric says, ignoring us both in favor of his map. He begins moving camps experimentally, muttering to himself under his breath.

“You’ll be joining the Solitude encampment in two months time to meet your battalion.”

“Battalion?”

“Aye, you’ve earned the title of commander. In honor of your sacrifice, I would also offer you a house in the city-”

“I’ve not the coin to keep a house.”

“Oh? Well, when your circumstances change, speak with my steward. In the meantime, you and your intended may take an officer’s chamber here.” He sweeps the paper off the desk and blindly hands it to Galmar.

“Burn this.” Galmar looks loath to leave, so I take the paper.

“Here, allow me.” I say, setting it alight with magic. He gives me a dirty look but makes no comment. Ulfric starts scribbling madly on a bit of scrap paper as I brush the ashes from my hands. 

“We’ll need to play at strength at the Markarth camp, it would be far too suspicious to withdraw our troops when they think we aim to attack the city.”

“Obviously,” Galmar mutters, leaning over the table. 

“We will withdraw troops from our Solitude encampment two weeks prior to the attack and have them circle back around through the woods. Send reinforcements to Markarth but divert them there when the time is right. It is crucial that only the commanders are aware of their real destination.”

“Yes, my lord.” I turn to go, figuring that I won’t be missed.

“And Dragonborn?” Ulfric stops me before I reach the door.

“Yes your highness?”

“I don’t need to warn you that secrecy is our top priority. If General Tullius realizes we know of his deception, the plan will fail and our cause could be lost. It is no small feat to take the capital city from under the Imperial's noses.”

“Aye, I had no intentions of running my mouth.”

“Stay away from the bars and speak to no one unless necessary. I grant you a week’s leave to rest from your journey, report back here on Turdas.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! I hope all is well with you! 
> 
> We've a battle ahead of us, I hope you are all prepared (because I'm certainly not!) 
> 
> Talk to you soon! 
> 
> Bye Bye :)


	44. Days in the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet.

“So what will you and Vilkas do with your time off?” Galmar asks at breakfast the next day. 

“Each other, probably.” I snark and he chokes on his water. Ulfric laughs heartily at his second’s shocked face. 

“You'd better keep an eye on your bride, son, with a wit like that she’s sure to cause trouble.” Ulfric teases Vilkas. His face is red enough to burn; I think I'll spare him the embarrassment of having to answer.

“Kindly fuck off, your majesty.” I say politely. He laughs harder and Galmar’s scowl deepens. 

“So what  _ do  _ you want to do?” I ask quietly once Galmar and Ulfric’s attention is captured by something more important.

“I liked your first idea.” He says, nuzzling my neck playfully. I laugh. 

“Seriously, whatever you want to do.”

“Anything I want hmm?” He grins down at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. I can't help returning his smile.

“Yes my love, anything.” 

“Let’s go hunting, you need more potion ingredients and I want to kill a horker.” 

“Do you need to rest?” Vilkas asks when I trip over a rock. I nod and drop my pack on the ground with an annoyed huff.

“Damn leg.” I mutter. He kneels down beside me and tries to unwrap the wound but I smack his hands away playfully.

“Hardly appropriate to start undressing me in the middle of a field.” He scoffs and unwraps the bandage.

“Healed up nice.” He comments.

“Thanks to your constant nagging! It really isn’t necessary to heal it with magic everyday you know.” I say, taking the bandage back and hastily rewrapping it. Even mid summer in Windhelm is chilly. 

“Then why’s it still giving you trouble.” I scowl at him, knowing that he already knows the answer.

“Because the poison spread.” I admit grudgingly and he smiles smug as a thief.

“Aye, and why is that?”

“Because yon Dragonborn is a foolish brat!” I say, imitating his voice dramatically. 

“I call it as it is, love.”

“You've been writing my Gran, haven't you?” He shrugs. 

“Wise to ask the expert when dealing with a willful beast.” I laugh.

“Beast huh? Now you’re in for it!” I say, tackling him into the ground. He laughs, desperately trying to escape before I can pin him. We tussle in the mud, hair matting with soil and armor streaking with dirt.

I finally get his arm behind him and pin him to the earth. 

“Willful beast you say? I'll show you a willful beast!” I press one knee into his back and tickle him relentlessly with my free hand. He giggles until he’s breathless. When he’s finally had enough, he twists free, bucking me off his back like a wild horse. 

“Now Petals, what will the other commanders say when you show up caked in filth?” He teases in a stern voice. 

“I’ll just blame it on you!” 

“They’ll never believe it. I’m the serious one, remember?” 

“Don’t look so smug, Mr. Broody, they’ve all seen the hickeys!” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff for you my friends? The next chapter is shaping up to be... interesting, so I thought our little Loa deserved a bit of sunshine before the storm. hehe I'm the worst. 
> 
> Toodles!


	45. A Reward Fit for a Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehehe I've been plotting this little bit for a while. What can I say, I love a good cliche. Enjoy Friends!

In hindsight, I should’ve known something would go wrong. Two months had passed. Two quiet months of duties and galas, skirmishes and healing. Even the ambushes had slowed. 

They found me outside of Whiterun. Hot summer night, guard down in the middle of camp. After all, who would dare attack a dragon in her nest? 

The Thalmor would. 

My head aches, eyes unfocused. I’ve been here before. Well, not exactly here, but in this situation. Practice makes perfect, even when it comes to kidnappings. 

“Good morning, Madaloa.” I tilt my head towards the voice. Smug, overconfident. They’ve chained my wrists, taken my armor and clothes. Not all that unusual, but it is chilly. We must be underground. They couldn’t have moved me far, not without drawing notice. 

“You’re awfully cheerful for one who’s marked for death.” I say, eyes finally adjusting to the low light. Three interrogators, one note taker. Three men, one woman, all altmer. They’re sure to stand to the side, never directly in front of me. Walls of stone, nothing to catch fire. Clever enough to house an unmuzzled dragon, stupid enough to try.

“Now now, that’s no way to speak to your host.” My eyes finally wander up to meet his. I note the arrogance in the set of his shoulders. Empty room, no other prisoners. Table to the left. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure? I assume you’ve brought me here for a reason.” That makes him laugh. No weapons in sight, no humor in their voices. He gives a small nod to the lady elf and she leaves without a word.

“They said you were the no nonsense sort. Did you get that from your Grandmother?” I don’t let the fear show on my face, electing instead to set my jaw into an arrogant grin. I push all thought from my mind of my family, fellow soldiers, Vilkas. Whatever they did to get me here, they’ll come to regret. Worry won't get me out alive.

“You’ve just signed your own death warrant.” I say casually. The woman returns with a leather bundle. When she lays it on the table, I recognize the set from Cicero’s playroom. I don’t let myself remember the screams. He didn't talk to me for a week when I ended their suffering. Hopefully I won't find that brand of mercy here.

“This is simple, tell us what you know and we’ll let you go.” Their leader decrees, standing tall beside the torture lady.

“Is that all? You have the Dragonborn in chains and all you want is a little intelligence?” I laugh haughtily, “rather unimpressive.” I can tell they were expecting my attitude. Best to keep them talking until I find a way out.

“Would you rather join our cause?” The torturer asks in a voice colder than the stones at my back.

“The empire tried to have me beheaded once, and as I recall it was your fault. So no, i'd rather die.”

“Perhaps you shall.” She taunts, picking up a deceptively tiny blade. I let out another arrogant laugh.

“If i die, everyone dies, or did you forget? I'm disappointed, last time you bastards kidnapped me you at least did your research.” Her smile is unnerving.

“You're holding that wrong you know,” I point out, “it’s not a dagger. You’re supposed to hold it like a paintbrush, let the sharpness take care of the rest.” 

She grins wider.

“A fellow artist?”

“Untie me and i'll show you.” She laughs darkly and approaches me from the side, avoiding my mouth. I turn my head and speak the words of my blood, smiling when she flinches. I could've killed her,but instead I turned ethereal. 

“Didn't think I'd actually let you hurt me did you? You high elves are the most foolish of your kind.” The torturer draws away, careful to watch my face. 

“You'd be wise to watch your tongue, heretic.” The lead interrogator sneers down at me and I grin. 

“And you'd be wise to run while you still have a chance.” They share a look. 

* * *

I can’t tell how long I’ve been here. They left me alone in the cold cellar for some time, though I’m sure that boredom made it seem longer. By the time they’ve returned, I’ve worked out a rough escape plan. I can conjure a dagger simple enough and cut myself free; I only need to find where they’ve stashed my armor and weapons. I can fight with magic, but I’d feel much more at ease with good armor and a solid weapon. I’d better hurry too; can’t have them putting me in irons, it would take ages to break the lock with bound hands and no lockpick. Maybe I could melt the metal…

The entrance of my captures pulls me from my scheming. I assume a bored facade. 

“Dragonborn,” The head interrogator greets. He has elected to bring only the note taker, no torturer, no bodyguard. I could slip my binds and kill them. How fast could I stick a knife in their throats before they sounded the alarm? How many guards would come?

“I do hope you haven’t lost my armor. Cost me a fortune to make.” I say, letting arrogance drip into my tone. 

“You’ve more important things to worry about.” He conjures a familiar, a spectral wolf. Not a bad idea, attacking me with something that can’t feel pain. He seems to read my understanding, smirk forming on his narrow face.

“Why were you in Solitude?” He asks, absently petting the creatures head. I tilt my own, preparing to turn myself ethereal. The spell doesn’t last all that long...I’d better use it sparingly. 

“Killing the emperor.” I answer, somewhat truthfully.

“Don’t play games, the emperor has been dead for years.”

“I know, I was there,” I smirk, “turned that boat into a proper ghost ship, and then I killed Commander Maro.” 

“What were you doing in Solitude three months ago?” He continues, watching my face carefully. Shit.

“I was in Markarth.” 

“Were you?” He asks in a voice like a viper. He sets the hound on me. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a scream, even as its spectral teeth dig into my calve and threatens to rend flesh from bone. 

“You can end this game any time you choose.” He says calmly. The dog lets go and my blood flows free,dripping hot against my freezing flesh. Save the spell, I tell myself. 

“I thought I was pregnant, so I went to Markarth.” I reaffirm, cursing my glass face. I’m sure he catches the lie. 

“So the rumors go, but we have it on good authority that you were near Solitude.”

“The two towns aren’t far, perhaps your informants are just bad at geography.” The familiar sinks its teeth back into my leg, near the knee, and pain blooms bright white hot as a brand. 

“You don’t want to make an enemy of the Auldmeri Dominion, little Loa.” He uses the nickname as a taunt, and I have to fight hard to keep the fury from my throat. There are very few people who dare to call me little, fewer still who would call me Loa. 

“What would your woodcutter Gran say of you murdering the emperor?” I give him a deadly look, the kind that could kill if I let it.

“Hit a nerve? What about all those cousins of yours. Thieves, mercenaries, village whore-” I begin to struggle, rage coloring my vision red. 

“Touch them and you’re dead! You hear me! I’ll skin you alive and burn your intestines! You’ll beg for death by the time I’ve finished with you!” The words leave of their own vocation, tone harsh with dragonblood. He stands too far away to hurt. It takes all my self control to keep from breaking free and making good on my promises. 

“Why were you in Solitude?” The spectral hound disappears with a final howl. The pain is nothing in comparison to the hatred that flares to life in my stomach.

“I was in  _ Markarth _ to blackmail an enemy official.” I admit. Half truths and distraction, at least it seems to work. Give a little to gain a lot. 

“Who?”

“None of your damn business.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I've missed you all!! Been up to my little schemes, got so much more planned. Poor Loa, I ought to treat her better. Hope all is well with you all!


	46. The Spoils of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This got dark real fast... Sorry for the angst my friends :(
> 
> Warning: mentions of suicide, close family death

When they finally leave, they send in a guard. Seems they’ve wised up a little. I don’t recognize the thalmor agent they place in charge, but they look strong, it won’t be an easy fight, and certainly not silent. I’ll have to reevaluate. I get some sleep, exhaustion finally taking me. When I finally wake, it is painfully clear that I've had no food or water in quite some time.

“What’s a girl have to do to get some wine around here?” I ask in an insolent tone. The guard makes no answer, besides gripping the pommel of their sword tighter. I smile, it would seem I frighten them.

“Want to know a secret?” That gets their attention. The soldier meets my eyes.

“What?”

“If you help me escape, I’ll spare your life.” They scoff. 

Time moves slow as syrup. I examine my legs the best I can without the use of my hands. The bites aren't deep, but the risk of infection is worrisome. I don't dare cast a spell with the guard so near. They must know I can use magic, but I don't want to push my luck yet. I can’t risk an injury so close to the Solitude Siege. My knees ache from sitting in the same cramped position so long. 

At some point they feed me, give me water. But the silence hangs heavy in the air. Isolation is its own form of torture, I know that better than most. I sleep some more, try to coerce my guard into freeing me, and work on my escape plan. Finally, the interrogators return. The torturer carries a heavy looking sack, but no weapons. Interesting. I meet their gazes in turn. 

“Are you ready to talk, Dragonborn?” I remain silent. 

“You're a loyal one. I wonder where you got that from. Perhaps your uncle, the farmer?” 

“Your threats are empty. Even the thalmor aren’t stupid enough to harm my kin.” 

“Your arrogance is unfounded.”

“Not so, I’ve killed your kind before. For all your high browed talk, you thalmor fall easier than bandits.” He regards me coldly. 

“Your grandmother rises at 4 am sharp. Makes breakfast, drinks her tea, and is out to tend the animals before sunrise,”

“If you’re trying to intimidate me, you're sorely mistaken.”

“She doesn’t carry much as far as weapons, an axe and a dagger. Most days that whore cousin of yours carries a bow,”

“Byir is no whore. Perhaps you’ve mistaken her for your mother.”   
“Easy targets, in that little valley between Falkreath and the Rift.”

“Touch them and you’ll suffer.”

“You post an assassin in the woods by the mill to watch over them, don’t you? Must be boring work for the lad. What’s his name?”

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Do they know about your murderous little friend? Do you ever worry that he would turn?”

“And incur the wrath of Sithis? I should think not.”

“What is the name of your contact in Markarth?”

“None of your business.” He breaks eye contact and I smile at the small victory. They are silent now, the cold sort of quiet that wants for breaking. I keep my mouth shut. It takes more than idle threats to break a warrior. 

“It really is a shame,” he meets my gaze again and I stare him down, “that you never thought to put a guard on your uncle.” I don’t let myself worry. He’s bluffing.

“On the road so much, hawking his wares. What did he sell again? Carrots, cabbage?” I remain silent.

“No, I remember now, it was chickens wasn’t it? Vicious little things, aren’t they?” 

“You’re point?” I can’t keep from asking.

“They put up quite a fuss when we took him.”

“You lie!” The words come out with more fire than intended. I curse myself quietly, I can’t let them see that they’re getting to me. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and dangles it in front of my face. 

“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” He smiles cruelly and unfolds the paper, handing it to one of the guards. The frightened woman approaches me, hands trembling as she holds the paper for me to read. 

_ Ma, _

_ The thalmor have me. Don’t send for Kyrin. _

_ I don’t know why they took me, but they want information about little Loa and Talos damn me if I’ll put her in harms way. I’ve made friends with one of the servants, I only hope this letter reaches you before they do. Keep your guard up, hire a damned merc if you need to, Kyrin’s got friends, use them. My friend, he’s smuggled me some poison.  _

Here the words become shaky, ink smudged and letters harsh. My heart thrums heavy in my throat. I recognize his handwriting, but it has to be a lie. 

_ I love you ma, and I trust you’ll take care of my youngins. Tell Thyrnn to quit his playing and settle down already. Don’t let Kyrin get too cold in her ways. Keep Byirith away from those damned bards, and don’t let Seevs tell you he’s fine when he gets to the gambling and drink. And protect Madaloa. She’s so much like her mother, ma. I don’t want her hurtin. Tell her she’s always been like my own daughter. _

_ Give them all my love. Tell them I’m with their mum. Goodbye. _

_ -Betrith _

“Shame really, to lose a prisoner and a servant in the same go. We intercepted this letter just hours after the ink dried. But don’t worry, the traitor paid for his deceit.”

“You liar!”

“Oh, little Loa, you know that’s not true,” He folds his arms and regards me cooly from across the room. The torturer opens the bag, wrinkling her nose in disdain. 

Time seems to slow as she pulls out its contents. I let out a strangled cry. Uncle Bet. Paler than possible, his head has been severed and stuffed into a dirty sack like a gods damned cabbage. Rage, hot as dragon’s breath rushes to my head. 

Strange how fake the dead look; a stuffed doll that mocks the warmth his smile once held. 

There isn’t enough air in here. I can’t breath. 

“Now you know what we’re capable of. Tell us all that you know and the rest of your family need not meet the same fate.” 

I speak. And the ground shakes as the sky falls around us. 

“What have you done?” he hisses and I smile like a wolf.

“Brought the fury of the gods down on your heads.” I say with a deranged laugh. My hands shake as I burn the ropes that binds them. When I raise to my feet, they cower before me, spells and weapons a last defense. The guards are the first to fall. The rest run, but there is no escape. No escape. No escape. 

I make my way above ground. If I were more coherent, I’d have recognized the clash of steel. 

“Madaloa!” Someone cries and I nearly run them through with a conjured dagger. They dodge just in time and wrap their arms around me. I struggle in vain. 

“Loa, it’s me. Calm down!” 

“Is she well?” Calls a voice I once recognized. I can’t hear the battle coming to a close with the blood rushing in my ears. I can’t tell friend from foe. 

“Petals,” My capturer whispers softly, and reason finally makes its way into my mind. The red haze clears from my eyes. They’d come to rescue me. 

“Vilkas? Thank the gods,” I stutter, turning in his arms to hug him fiercely. 

“We’ve been tracking you for three days, how did they get you?” He pulls away to examine me for wounds. Ralof approaches us timidly. 

“If you hadn’t called that meteor shower, we’d have never found you!” I look around, dazed at the battalion that surrounds us. Another Stormcloak victory. They’ve taken my capturers prisoner. A soldier ties their hands deftly. 

“But could you perhaps call it off?” He asks, and I blink stupidly. Of course, how had I not noticed? I whisper the right words, and the sun returns. I blink into the bright sky, unaccustomed to light. 

“Thanks,” Ralof sighs, “We um... You left your armor at camp.” He pulls a heavy bundle from his back and hands it over. I suddenly realize that I’m only in my undergarments. If I were myself, I would have laughed at his embarrassment. I dress quickly, vaguely relieved to strap my scabbard back in place. It’s warm in the sun. I’ve never noticed how hot summer was in the Whiterun hold. 

“What are you doing with them?” I ask numbly, gesturing to the Thalmor agents. 

“Bringing them to prison. Is that alright, commander?”

“No. They know too much to be left alive.” I reply, drawing my blade. Ralof looks away when I run them through. Every last Thalmor agent. They die on their knees,bound in chains as my uncle had fallen. When the ground grows red with their blood, silence sits heavy on the breeze. I'm the first to move, pushing back through the doors and underground to retrieve the sack. I cradle it like a babe, unable to set my eyes upon his face. He’d called me his daughter. He’d died to defend me. I find a crate and salt. Prepare his remains to return home, numb. 

“Love?” Vilkas asks softly. I hadn't heard him enter. He takes in the scene. I swallow hard and avoid his eye.

“You never got to meet him.” I choke on the words, tears coming hot and fast. He catches me before I collapse.

I don't recall much from that day. Somehow I pick myself up and put on a brave face. Address the troops and settle my orders. Somehow I seal the crate and order a Stormcloak courier to deliver it to my Gran, along with the letter and a hastily written note of my own. 

This ends now. Solitude awaits. In my time with the Stormcloaks, I’ve come to realise that war is not an act of honor but desperation. There are none so desperate as I. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof that was rough to write... I'll be back with more soon, and hopefully something a little lighter!
> 
> Hope you all are having a splendid day, best regards!


	47. Where Dreams and Memories Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad Lady Hours...

_ “You’ll hardly make a valiant warrior if you can’t hold a sword proper, little Loa”  _

_ “Aw uncle, I’m already good with my fists, what’s the difference?” I ask in a voice so small it barely gets past the wind. We stand at the edge of the pasture, wooden swords drawn. Thrynn looks bored beyond reason, but he doesn’t interrupt his father’s lesson. Uncle Bet laughs. _

_ “A sword gives you more reach, halfling. How do you expect to take on men twice your size with such little arms?” He gives my hand a tug and I giggle. Byirith sings a little song from her from her playpen, too young yet to learn to fight.  _

_ “Pa is right, how do you think i got my apprenticeship?” Kyrin asks, holding out her wooden sword proudly, like a hero.  _

_ “Braggart.” Thrynn comments and she turns to him in a fury, brandishing her weapon. _

_ “Milk drinker!”  _

_ “That’s enough!” Gran yells from the porch, and even Uncle Bet winces.  _

_ “Hush Ma, you’ll wake Tree!” Granny scoffs. _

_ “A giant could crash through the nursery and that child wouldn’t stir.”  _

_ “I wanna see a giant!” Byir squeals and her father smiles fondly.  _

_ “Alright, lass, hold your weapon right and try and keep me at a distance,” Uncle Bet instructs, sweeping his own wooden sword up from the dirt, “when your opponent is strong, your mind’s gotta be stronger.”  _

_ “Come on Pa,I want to go play, I’ll never need this!” Thrynn whines from the sidelines as we square off. I hold my practice sword clumsily between us, not used to the unwieldy weapon.  _

_ “Brute strength can only get you so far, lad.”  _

_ “Hush, Thrynn, if you and Loa get good enough, I’ll make you some real steel,” Seevs promises, dropping his shovel to watch the match. Even as a young teen, with his ma gone, he helped his pa take on the role of parenting. _

_ “Really?” I ask excitedly, turning away to look in his eye, “You promise?” Uncle Bet lands a tap to my arm and laughs at my scowl. He pulled the blow so it didn’t hurt, but it still stings a little.  _

_ “You’ve got to focus! You want to be an adventurer, you’ve got to mean it!” He swings the sword again and I dart out of the way.  _

_ “That’s it, lass! Now try and hit me.” I do as he says, aiming a sloppy jab at his waist. Suddenly, the earth quakes under my feet. I’m falling. Wood turns to iron. I look on in horror as the blow lands, feel the yield of his flesh as the blade sinks deep into his stomach. _

_ “Why did you kill me Loa?”  _

“Wake up!” Vilkas rouses me with a hard shake to the shoulders. I let out a strangled cry, tangled in the sweaty blankets of my bedroll.

“Shh, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

“Uncle Bet, I killed him!” I cry, “It’s all my fault.” He pulls me out of the mess of cloth and onto his lap.

“Madaloa, it’s not your fault.” He says sternly.

“He’s dead because of me!” I rock back and forth in his arms, not feeling the night chill. He holds me until I calm down, as the soft lullaby of crickets and frogs easing my mind into a sensible state. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“I don't want to think,” i murmur against his neck, “distract me.” 

And i let his kisses blur the edges of reality until the pain in my chest eases. 

By the end of the next week, we reach our destination. Markarth camp. They’ve gone so far as to construct tribuches; if the empire doesn't believe we're set to attack, this will all be for naught. I heal the wounded, prepare my group for battle. Galmar wants me to lead a covert operation. Sneak a group of soldiers into the city and lower the gates. Disguising warriors as bards will be a challenge, especially considering the arms we will need to bear to reach the gate towers. Nonetheless, I agree without comment. 

I make no answer when he asks how I escaped the Thalmor, why I killed them. Late that evening, I rouse my group quietly, and instruct them to make ready for travel. 

“Wrap your weapons in cloth, no one may know we’ve left.” 

“But commander, where are we going?” I stare down the soldier, a girl hardly old enough to fight, until she drops the subject. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this out real quick because I was in a mood TM, so it's unedited (oof sorry) and very short. I've just got all the feels guys :'(  
> I'm also a bit guilty for torturing Loa, but that is how the story goes, and it is my job to tell it (as poorly written and unedited as it may wind up... since I'm rushing... [that's my excuse anyway lol]) 
> 
> I hope all with well with you all :) Lots of love


	48. Coming to Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madaloa mourns as the battle draws near.

“I take it this was the secret you wished to tell me?” Vilkas asks. We’ve taken over guard duty as the rest of my command rests. I haven’t told them where we are headed, but I can tell some have already figured it out. 

“Aye, if all goes to plan, I’ll tell you everything that I’ve been ordered to keep silent.”

“Since when does the dragonborn follow orders?” He asks with a faint smile that I don’t return. My eyes scan the forest, darker than sorrow. He sighs deeply and wraps an arm around my waist.

“Would it help to talk about it?” 

“Galmar would have my head.” 

“You know that’s not what I was referring to.” I shrug, leaning my head against his chest in a defeated sort of way. We sit in silence for some time, watching the woods.

“They threatened my family,” I say at last, “but I…”

He watches me patiently as I swallow my emotions back. 

“I didn’t take the warning. So they killed him.” 

“And you?” 

“Legs healed up just fine, so it doesn’t matter.” He nods silently.

“There are some who believe that the stars are tears in the fabric of the universe,” he says, glancing up at the sky after a long silence. 

“Do they?”

“Aye, I heard a traveling bard speak of it when I was young.” I smile.

“Well then, are you sure you’re remembering it right? It must've been a long time ago.” He laughs and gives my shoulder a playful shove, even though the joke is half hearted.

“Aye, I’ve a good memory, you should know that better than any,” he whispers, placing a featherlight kiss on the ticklish spot behind my ear. I squirm away with a giggle.

“You fiend! Must you always use that against me?” 

“I like to torment you, my love.” I roll my eyes playfully at his teasing tone. 

“So, what made these holes in the sky?” 

“I don’t know,” he says with a little shrug, “must’ve been something big.” 

“Aye, much bigger than a dragon,” I say, examining the sky curiously. What could be on the other side to cast so much light?

“Even the universe has its limits,” his tone is serious. I look back to his face and find his eyes searching mine with a burning intensity. 

“Poetic,” I say, and he smiles sadly down at me.

“You don’t have to be brave all the time, Madaloa,” he pulls me back into his arms, “it’s ok to feel the pain.”

“How did you do it? When Kodlak died?” I ask, throat sore with unshed tears. 

“I didn’t. You saw, you were there.” 

“Aye, but what about after? After the silver hand and Ysgramor's tomb?”

“I’m not the greatest example on how to cope with loss,” his voice is tired, self deprecating. I take his hands in my own.

“Maybe not, but at least you didn't become an assassin.” I say with a short laugh that he doesn't return. 

“You were so distant in those days,” I murmur softly, “where did you go?”

“I gave in to the blood more than I should have. Got into fights for no reason, took too many risks.” 

“How’d you stop?” 

“I had this contract. You might remember it; you and Aela gave me an earful after.” I give him a confused look and he continues the story.

“Had to intimidate someone and I near beat them to death. Ria had to step in and stop me,”

“Ah, I remember now. You gave her a black eye and I made you let her return the favor.” He laughs.

“Aye, and I was damned lucky too. If I remember correctly, Aela wanted the honor.” I snicker. 

“Well, you deserved it!” I say in Aela’s defense, “hitting a shield sister is hardly honorable.” 

“You’re one to talk!”

“Aye, and I always pay my dues, and without complaint, I might add! You whined for a week!”

“I did not!”

“Did too!” I tease and he cracks a smile. I lean up to kiss him, but he turns away.

“If you start that, I’ll never finish the story.” I laugh. 

“Alright, old man. What happened after Ria knocked some sense into your thick skull?” 

“I realized I was being foolish. Wrote down what I felt and burnt the journal.” I tilt my head.

“Did that help?”

“Would’ve worked better if I weren’t such a stubborn ass and talked to my family, but yes it helped.” 

“I suspect you’re calling me a stubborn ass?”

“Not at all… well not in  _ this  _ case.” I chuckle, and look back at the holes in the sky. 

“My uncle used to say the season of your birth influenced you. Something about the stars and guardians. I never understood it much.” 

“Fascinating,” he says.

“Aye, I was born in Last Seed, he said that gave me a short temper.”

“Must be some truth in it,” Vilkas says with a warm laugh. I smile sadly.

“What season were you born?”

“I don't know, Jergen told us our age but not the day of our birth.” 

“I bet you were born in Suns Dawn, that’s when Byirith was born.” I say in a teasing tone.

“Oh really, and why is that?”

“It's the sign of the lover.” He laughs and places a light kiss on the top of my head. 

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” He asks.

“Well, you are very  _ talented _ , my dear.” I say, placing a hand on his upper thigh suggestively. He blushes. 

“Is that so? Here I thought you were going to call me a rake again.” I laugh, a little too loudly. One of the soldiers turns over in their sleep and I quite myself, looking around the forest for threats that aren't there. We watch in silence. 

“I need to fix my mistakes,” I say after a while, thinking aloud. 

“What?” He asks.

“Hiding who I am. Byir was right, family shouldn’t keep secrets. Gran said in her last letter that everyone will be coming home, for the funeral. They’re waiting for me to hold the ceremony. Will you come with me?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of making you face that alone.” 

“He would’ve liked you,” I say softly, “Uncle Bet was a smart man, loved his stories. I wish you could have known him.” 


	49. The Battle of Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I had to change this quite a bit, really throwing cannon out the window here, but I think (hope) it adds some interest. I hope you enjoy!

Though I was supposed to get to the Solitude camp a week prior, being kidnapped put me behind schedule. Therefore, it is of no great surprise that I find Ulfric has already arrived. It won’t be long now. 

“Stormblade,” he greets us at the edge of camp, “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

It would seem that they’ve been reading my personal letters again. Last time I hire one of his couriers. 

“Thank you, my liege. Have we forgone stealth entirely?” 

“Why do you ask?”

“The high king should not be seen outside of an imperial city.” He laughs.

“We can hardly pretend much longer. I’ve ordered the construction of trebuchets.” I raise my eyebrows.

“Galmar insisted on complete secrecy!”

“Aye, I’m sure he did.”

“Then what are my orders?”

“Our scouts have found that your intel was correct. Now that you are here, we will attack tomorrow at dawn. Tonight you sneak into the city with your team. Once you’ve opened the gate, your group will rejoin our forces and take the city.” 

“When you say it like that, it sounds simple.” 

“Aye, but battles rarely are. Come, we will fill you in on the finer details in the commander’s tent.” 

I send my team to pitch their tents and get whatever rest they may. Vilkas follows me to the commander’s tent, at Ulfric’s request. The early morning sun glints dully off dark canvas. If the empire hasn’t guessed our game by now, their scouts are worth as much as the Thalmor’s honor. We’d better hope their reinforcements aren’t close enough to stop us. 

The camp is huge, sprawling through the forest like the nests of shore birds, scattered and surprisingly well hidden. The commanders' tents are situated dead center, blue flags flown proudly at every door. Ulfric holds back the canvas flap of the largest one and ushers us inside. Most of the other commanders have made the journey, though some must have stayed near Markarth to accept the city's surrender once we've won. Galmar gives us a grave nod as we enter. He must have left soon after us to get here so quickly. Ulfric lets him fill me in on the details, electing instead to quietly observe from the back of the tent.

“You’ll sneak in through the docks, I trust that will be no issue?”

I nod, though the question does not demand an answer. It doesn't matter to them if I suffer, so long as the cause moves forward. 

“Vilkas, you will join our forces outside the gate.”

“Absolutely not!” He says with a steel edged voice, “I follow the Dragonborn.”

“You're too noticeable, you’ll jeopardize her mission.” We share a look.

“He isn’t bound by the oath I took, you can’t order him around.” Galmar glares at me.

“Your team was specially chosen for the task, they are masters of stealth. In Talos name, would you follow orders for once?!” He snaps and I regard him cooly. 

“What makes you think I won’t be killed the moment I approach those gates? You’ve hardly been inconspicuous.” 

“You’ll be dressed as-”

“Yes, I heard you the first time! That doesn’t guarantee anything. Even a fool could see we’re planning an attack.”

“If you can’t make it through the gate, you’ll have to scale the walls. Could your warrior do that?” I stare him down, even though I know he’s right. 

“Stormblade,” Ulfric says in an authoritative voice. I turn my scowl on him. 

“You know Galmar is right. We will not order you to fight, Vilkas, but you may not accompany Madaloa.” 

“Are you certain this is wise?” Vilkas asks once more as I prepare myself for battle. We slept most of the day, though it was hard to find rest as the camp prepared for battle around us. I met with my small group of warriors. Galmar may have been right; none of us look like fighters. Most are small statured and young. In all we number 7. Dressed as bards, with armor hidden beneath our fanciful robes, we might pass. 

“I’m worth half the imperial army at least, don’t fear for me.” I say lightheartedly. In truth, I’ve no idea if Galmar’s plan will work, but it is best not to worry him. I’ve been careful not to get too close to any of the warriors in my group. Better that they see me as a cold hearted commander. Who knows if any of them will survive. 

“In that case, I’ll meet you in Solitude,” he pulls me in for a fierce hug, and we pray together. 

“No entry,” The guard says in a tone that doesn’t allow room for argument. The young girl persists. 

“But sir! We’ve travelled all this way to see the college. Please allow us entry, we promise we will make it worth your while,” I draw my cloak tighter about my shoulders and look away as he examines us. I hate the way he leers at her. She hardly looks old enough to pass as an adult. 

“I'm afraid not, sweetheart. I have direct orders from the general.” 

We fall back to the shadows. 

“What do we do now commander?” Someone asks. I take a deep breath and reevaluate. 

“Prepare for a climb,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I’ll have to cast detect life to make sure we enter at a place of least resistance. We will have to time it just right. Go too early and we won't have reinforcements to back us. Too late and we’ll have no chance of going undetected. We move silently around the city as I examine the walls. It takes a little while to remember how the spell works; I've had so little use for it lately that i’m rusty. When the familiar orange glow finally appears, i grin. I had forgotten how incredible it is to see through walls. I look around at my companions, noting the brightness of their lives with a prick of anxiety. When I glance down, I see my own light. Odd, I don't remember that. 

I scan the walls methodically, and find a likely spot. All in all, it’s taken a few hours. We haven’t long now.

“How long till sunrise, do you think?” I ask. 

“An hour at most, half hour at least.” Someone responds and i nod absently. 

“Take out the guard on the left, and be wise about it,” I tell one of the archers. He draws back an arrow, glistening with poison, and lets it fly. 

“Good shot,” I remark as the guard slumps to the ground without making a sound. I cast my spell again and motion them forward when the coast is clear.

“Keep on your guard, archers stay below and take out anyone who sees us.” 

Fortunately, my precautions aren’t needed. Still, it’s hard to climb the rope with sweat slick palms; I hate being so exposed. I dont let out my breath until all of my men make it up the wall. 

We stick to the shadows, making our way to the gate. When we come across our first group of guards. I stop. 

“No way past, we’ll have to pick them off one by one.”

“What if they call for help,” The young looking woman asks. 

“Pray they don't, and kill them quickly.” I draw a dagger and vial of paralyzation poison. It would be amusing, the way I fall back into the role of assassin with the same ease as when a bard opens their mouth to sing. I would laugh if it weren't so frightening. I think of Vilkas to keep the dark part of my mind at bay. I can't go back down that road. 

I go in first, sliding silently through the doorway. The first guard sits back to, another three scattered about the room. 

“Reckon Ulfric will really come?” I hear one ask. 

“Nah, that coward? Been holed up in his fancy palace the whole war.” 

The man before me shifts in his seat. My heart quickens as I press myself against the wall. It’s dark, but no amount of shadows will hide me if he turns. 

When it is safe again, I sneak past, making room for another to creep up behind the first guard. The archers can take out the other two from the doorway. When I reach where I need to be, I give the signal and plunge my knife into the man's back. He lets out a stuttering gasp as the air is forced from his lungs. Blood trickles down my arm, warm and sticky. I swallow hard, trying not to notice the way my heart dances from the thrill of the kill. 

Arrows catch the two facing the doorway, and they fall without trouble. We’d have done well, if the man behind me hadn’t missed his mark. The guard lets out a strangled cry as the dagger sticks in one of his ribs. I leap across the room and shove a hand in front of his mouth to stifle the scream. He thrashes, hands beating at my arms, wrapping around my throat. I pull free of the choke hold at the same moment the warrior cuts the guards throat. In a desperate last attempt, his elbow comes up hard and catches me in the eye. I stumble, choking back a gasp. My eye weeps, but whether it’s blood or tears I don’t know. 

“Sorry Stormblade!” The young man whispers hastily. I wave a hand dismissively and wipe at my eye with blood stained hands. That was foolish. The boy pulls a handkerchief from his robe pocket and I accept it gratefully. 

“Are you well?” The young woman asks.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, “let me catch my breath and I'll cast detect life again. My old age is getting to me.” She stifles a laugh. 

“You can’t have seen over thirty winters.”

“That’s a fair guess. I’ll be thirty come fall.” I reply shortly. I draw my magic into my palms, only to find a mass of life forms hurrying our way. 

“Shit.”

“What is it?” the boy asks. 

“They know we’re here, everybody move!” I say in a hushed voice. We might be able to slip past them. 

We creep down the hall as fast as we can without making a sound. We are almost to the gate. We just need to break the locking mechanism and we’ll be home free. So long as Ulfric is on time, that is. We pause at the door to the guard house keep. I turn around, more than slightly annoyed to find that we are still being pursued. There’s a lot of them. We’re surrounded.

“Stealth is out, get ready for a fight,” I say, clumsily throwing off my cloak to reveal a banged up set of dragonscale armor. I probably should have dressed better for the occasion, i muse. The rest prepare in a similar manner. Shedding outer layers that could catch, drawing weapons and dropping sword sheaths. 

“Guard the door, kill any imperials you see and keep your backs to the wall. Gods watch over you,” I tell three of my men. They nod solemnly and get in position. I open the door and charge inside, dagger drawn. I would have to pick up a sword off a body; I'd left mine at camp because I didn't want to risk the clanging sound of scabbard against armor. 

We catch them by surprise, a small victory. The bowman takes out three before the guards are able to draw their weapons. I conjure a familiar to even the odds. Keeping my back to the wall, I count at least twenty, and Talos knows how many more followed us. My dagger quickly becomes matted in gore. It is a disadvantage to have the shorter weapon, but I make due. 

“Commander!” The young girl shouts, pointing across the room. The lock mechanism. Protected with magic, of course. I sweep an iron sword from the wall and cut down another imperial soldier. 

“Get down!” I yell, before releasing a torrent of fire that makes my mouth taste of ash. Twelve down. 

They catch the bowman. Blow to the ribs, red blood. I wipe my eye with the back of my hand and cast another spell, more advanced, a fire cloak. It leaves me shaking from the toll of magic, but I push my way to the boy, regardless, and try to heal him. I don't know if it worked. There's no time.

The lock mechanism is cloaked in dusky blue. I hit it with my sword and nearly fall back from the push of magic. Simple guarding spell. With one hand, i dig through my bag for a magicka potion, with the other, i block. More shouting. I’ll have a sore throat by the end of the day. 

The spell fades with a stuttering flicker and i set to work, trusting my ally to keep the enemy back. She kills the last man and rushes to the bowman’s side. 

“He’s dead,” She says, stricken. 

“He fought well, his soul will go to Sovngarde.” The lock breaks with a loud snap. I hear the gate churning below. I smash it with the pommel of my stolen sword for good measure. Can’t have them fixing it on us. 

“We need to get to the street!” I say, wrenching the door back open. My men start, one more dead, the other two bloodstained. When I see more imperials round the corner of the hall, I drag them inside and slam the door behind. Wedging a chair beneath the handle for good measure. Down the stairs, turn left, right, left again.

We rush outside, finding nothing but chaos. 

“Protect the dragonborn!” The young girl yells. I guess she is my second in command. I should have learned their names, not knowing makes it worse.

“Loa!” I let out a sigh of relief when I catch sight of Vilkas. Armor caked in filth, but I'd wager none of the blood is his own. We weave through the madness until we reach each other.

“Gods, i thought i'd lost you,” he yells above the noise. My head starts to ache. 

“Can't get rid of me that easy!” I yell back. He hands me my sword and i grin.

“Ulfric said to meet him at Tullius’ chambers!” I nod, and we take off in that direction. The sound of steel ringing makes my head spin as we fight our way through the city. The street is slick, I nearly slip on several occasions. 

We catch sight of Ulfric and Galmar outside the General’s quarters. 

“Secure the door!” 

When we enter, I blink at the lack of noise. Outside the battle rages, but here it is almost quiet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
> This was such a fun chapter to write! Whoa I'm pumped!!! 
> 
> In other news, I've got another surprise in store, one I've been planning for quiet some time. I can't wait to see how Madaloa reacts! *cue evil laughter*
> 
> I hope you're having a great day, I'll be back shortly with something special, another inconvenient, unexpected-yet-very-cliche, plot twist for our little Loa (at least this time it's a happy twist! Don't let that fool you, there is plenty of angst to come, but I think that Loa is going to like this surprise). Shucks, I hope I haven't given away too much...
> 
> Love you all! Toodles!


	50. Blood Stained and Victorious

Can it really be over? Exhaustion settles heavy in my shoulders. I refused the _honor_ of killing the general. There's been enough death here today, and if I had any say at all, I would have had him pardoned. Tullius was just doing his job, same as the rest of us. 

“You fought well, Dragonborn,” Ulfric says. There’s a deep sorrow in his voice that stains the proud timber of his tone. 

“Thank you, sire.” 

“We will honor you with a feast in Windhelm, after settling things in Solitude,” he says, and Galmar nods his agreement. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’ve no time for galas.” I reply numbly. The high king regards me with a cold appraising eye.

“Understood. We will sing songs in your honor regardless. Now come, stand at my side and allow me to honor you in my victory speech.”

“Keep me out of your ramblings, old man. I’ve not the time for flowery language; I’m needed at home.” There is no jest in my voice, only weariness. He nods solemnly.

“Aye, you’ve sacrificed much to our cause. May the gods bless you, Madaloa. Go where you must, but visit our healer first, I beseech you. You fought well, you’ve earned rest.” I leave without a word, pushing past a crowd of nords who clap my shoulders and shout praise into ears deafened by defeat. 

“Petals!” Vilkas calls as he pushes his way through the crowd. I brave a smile when I see that he is still unharmed. 

“It is over,” I yell over the noise, “we’d best get going. Gran is waiting for us.” 

“Loa, you ought to see the healer. You’ve hardly slept since-”   
“Aye, and I no longer have the prospect of revenge to keep me moving, but I’m not injured. Let them tend those who’ve a need. I’ll rest when I’m home.” I can tell he disagrees, but he makes no argument. When we reach camp to collect our meager belongings, Galmar waits by our tent.

“Hail Dragonborn, I know you’ve got to be off, but I would have a word.” I give Vilkas a dazed nod and follow the commander, thoroughly surprised that he had left the king’s side. It must be important. 

“I’ve been instructed to give you Swiftfoot,” I give him a confused look and he rolls his eyes, “the horse that carried you to Solitude three months prior. We’ve a steed for your love too, a token of our appreciation.” If I weren’t so tired with sorrow, I would be surprised; Nightlight is an expensive steed. 

“Extravagant gift, I am honored.” I say without a hint of sarcasm. I see his eyes tighten with worry.

“Madaloa, whatever those elven bastards did to you, I swear they will pay in blood.” I smile sadly. 

“It wasn’t me they harmed, but I thank you for the sentiment. When you take the battle to the Aldmeri Dominion, you can count on my blade.” 

“I will hold you to your word, Dragonborn. It has been an honor to fight at your side, shield-sister.” 

“Don’t get soft on me now, old man, you’ve a lot of work ahead of you. Someone has to keep Ulfric from boring all of Skyrim to death with his dreadful speeches” I say and watch as the tension fades from the commander’s shoulders. Strange how a simple joke can make the world think you are whole. I’ve become better at lying; I smile to cover the cracks. 

“Aye, that is a daunting task. I’ve also asked a healer to see you; I know you had no intention of stopping, but she’ll have potions to help you on your journey.”

“I’m not injured, you old men worry too much, let her see someone who needs it.” 

“Let her tend your bruises at least. That is a direct order, dragonborn.” 

“Dragonborn’s don’t take orders, remember?” I tease and he shakes his head at my insolence. 

“Alright fine," I relent when his scowl worsens, "I could use some stamina potions, I’ve a long ride ahead.” 

They've enough to worry about without tending to me. If seeing a healer will give them peace of mind, I'll make the sacrifice. His scowl softens.

“Where are you headed, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

“A funeral.” My bluntness strikes him silent. We regard each other thoughtfully for a moment or two. 

Finally, we make our way back to camp to find that the healer has already arrived.

“I’ll see you around, Stormblade," he says, turning to take his leave.

“Aye, and Galmar?” He pauses.

“Yes?”

“If you’ve ever the need for a good spy,” I clasp his shoulder solemnly, “for the sake of the gods, ask someone else!” 

I keep my word and follow the healer into her tent before leaving. Vilkas doesn’t like the thought of riding all the way to my Gran’s, but we can hardly refuse such an extravagant gift. Besides, I’d grown rather fond of Nightlight, my only companion for nearly a month during that fateful mission. In some ways, we owe him our victory. 

Vilkas readies the horses while the healer fixes my black eye and bruised arms with magic. She is a silent sort of lady, steady like I once was. I wonder vaguely how life would have been if I hadn’t become a legend. Would I have become a camp healer as she had? Would my uncle have lived?

“Miss?” Her no nonsense voice snaps me from my thoughts. 

“Yes?”

“Were you aware that you are with child?” For a moment, her words don’t register. When I finally understand their meaning, I stumble over my words.

“I’m what?” How was that possible? How do you know?” I wrack my brain, thoughts slow as mud. She continues to heal me without pause as I process. 

“I cast a sense life spell when healing in battle, lets me see who’s got the best chance of survival. You’ve got two lights.” 

“Oh.” I say, stunned. 

I suppose it  _ was  _ possible. I had forgotten to take my tonic after being rescued, but I hadn’t thought that one day’s absence could make a difference. Gran said some couples took years to conceive. Sure I had felt different as of late, but I was in mourning for gods sake!

“You’re still very early along, I’d wager less than a month. But you  _ are _ pregnant...Congratulations.” She says absently as she pulls a bit of paper and a quill from her pack. She efficiently sets up an ink pot and writes something in quick, neat letters.

“I’m afraid stamina potions are not healthy for you or the child; You’ll need to get more rest, not good to push yourself so hard. ” She blows on the ink and places the paper in my shaking hands. I blink down at it, not processing the words. She sighs tiredly, noting my lack of comprehension.

“It’s a list of things you should avoid. Try not to drink too much liquor, don’t over exert yourself in battle, pretty self explanatory.” She repacks her bag and stands to go. 

“Thank you.” I say, suddenly remembering my manners. She smiles tightly and leaves me to my thoughts. What to make of this? 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I hope you're liking the series. Stay tuned for more shenanigans!


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